


The Adventures and Friendship of Four Dudes Trying Not to Get Fucked to Death: The Redux

by BakaSmurf, luckychaos



Category: Corruption of Champions
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:42:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakaSmurf/pseuds/BakaSmurf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckychaos/pseuds/luckychaos
Summary: Seemingly randomly portaled from their normal everyday lives on Earth into a twisted dimension once pure and now overrun by rape-happy demons, four dudes find themselves serving as the bulwark against an encroaching, all-consuming corruption. In the name of the peoples of Mareth, they seek to restore peace, order, hope, and most importantly of all, purity.United they stand, they will fight with everything they have to be the Champions this gnarled land so desperately needs.This is a collaborative work between Fission Battery, Dr. Doctor, luckychaos, Alleydodger, and BakaSmurf.Reposted from Questionable Questing.





	1. Here we go again

His face made contact with dry, cracked dirt, he cursed, and grumbled, and griped. Fucking bullshit asshole trees with their asshole roots sticking up out of the ground.  
  
Pushing himself up, it was only when he was back on his feet that he realized dry, cracked earth had no place in a boreal Canadian forest. He was in a wasteland… a wasteland with an oppressive red sky and deep, rich red dirt. Like some sort of hellish fantasy Mad Max scene.  
  
He blinked, then blinked again. He wasn’t sure how to process what had just happened, and…  
  
His thought process was broken by the sound of a shriek and a deep thump.  
  
Spinning in place to face the sudden noise, he saw a taller bespectacled man in a hoodie stumble through a glowing portal. He swore under his breath as he found his footing and looked around in confusion.  
  
“What the actual fuck.” The new arrival muttered, his gaze quickly turning to the other man. “Who the fuck are you?”.  
  
“Uh…” The shorter man paused, uncertain about his situation, quickly coming up with an alias on account of how fucking sketchy the entire situation was. “...Jet,” he shrugged. “You?”  
  
“Jet? Really, Jet?” The other man asked incredulously. “That’s the fake-” He was cut off by another arrival.  
  
Then there came the plaintive shriek of a man clad in leather, soaring through the sky, body on flames as he fell to earth.  
  
“OH MY GOD! AHHHH!” He screamed, tumbling to the floor as he all but barreled between the two, flailing about as smoke enveloped him in a black shroud.  
  
“FUCKING LEATHER! GET OFF! GET OFF!”  
  
He peeled off his heavy jacket with the force of the Incredible Hulk, roaring like the fucking symbiote was trying to interlink with his consciousness.  
  
The flaming garment crumpled into the dirt in a smouldering heap, the singed man collapsing into the sand, chest heaving.  
  
‘Jet’ was stunned silent, his eyes as wide as dinner plates, the taller man reacted in much the same way, incapable of acting, caught like a deer in headlights.  
  
The three of them were silent when they all heard another arrival appear.  
  
The silence was broken by a cry of surprise as a man tumbled backwards out of nowhere, ass over tea kettle and pants around his ankles. Stunned for a moment, he groaned and laid still; Hand still grasping something that shouldn’t be grasped in polite company. It was pretty big too. The moment he spotted the other figures, he curled into a ball on the ground and shouted, “What the fuck!”  
  
Scrambling to try and pull up his pants, the blonde glanced wide-eyed around. “Where the fuck am I?”  
  
As he finished that statement, a motorcycle rolled in out of the blue, riderless, it came to a stop and fell over unceremoniously next to the helmeted man still recovering from being on fire on the ground.  
  
Silence reigned for a few moments as the four dudes simply stared at each other wordlessly, struggling to process what the hell had just happened.  
  
The tall man with glasses slowly turned to ‘Jet.’ “So… that’s the fakest fucking name I’ve ever heard! What’s your last name supposed to be?”  
  
‘Jet’ blinked, turned to the larger bespectacled man, and warily replied. “Uh… Setter?” He offered, immediately drawing on a pseudonym he’d used for a story he’d written in the past.  
  
The taller man opened his mouth to respond but paused, and peered at the other man intently, looking him over and noticing the  _sword_  at his hip. It took him a second to respond. “..... Joe, is that you, you motherfucker?!”  
  
Joe blinked owlishly, then actually looked at the taller man himself, examining his distinctive features closely. “...Booker!?” He then turned to the other two present and looked at them. “Rocket!?” he half-shouted at the biker.  _Nilas!?”_  he finished with a dramatic point at the blonde man engaging in public indecency.  
  
The man glanced back over his shoulder, having started to crawl away from the group mumbling to himself. “Wait, what? How the hell do you know that name?”  
  
“As much as it interests me to see you all here....” Rocket deadpanned, staring sad-eyed at the destroyed jacket nestled between his fingertips. “I must mourn.”  
  
“...Nice to meet you in person too, dude,” Joe grimaced at the now recognizable sad biker, turning to face Nilas again. “Dude, Baka!” He declared while pointing at himself.  
  
“...Did you just shout idiot at me in Japanese?” Nilas said after a moment, looking thoroughly confused by everything that was going on.  
  
Joe rolled his eyes. “BakaSmurf you tool, from Spacebattles!” He clarified while adjusting his hiking pack.  
  
“Joe, holy shit, great meeting you, sans the circumstances.” Booker said. “Though, you’re right, those pictures really whitewashed you.”  
  
“...Oh.” The blonde stopped and turned to sit on ground properly, brow furrowed. “Uh… so what’s up…?”  
  
Joe looked between the other three gathered dudes, then looked over the environment around them, and shrugged. “Fuck my life, man.”  
  
\---  
  
“...Okay, I’m confused, it isn’t hot out at all, but I swear to fuck there’s a visible haze out in the distance,” Joe stated as the dudes walked along, having picked a random direction and started walking after their little meet and greet.  
  
“Yeah, you’d think it’d be like being under a heat lamp with the lighting.” Booker remarked as he scanned the horizon. The dry, cracked ground crunching beneath their collective boots as the red sun hung in the sky. “This is a serious fucking hellscape.”  
  
“It’s a bit chilly, actually. But this is some end of the world shit, yeah.” Nilas’ eyes widened and he stopped, before slowly glancing at the others. “...That can’t have been what happened, right?”  
  
“...I didn’t want to say, but I am getting some serious DOOM vibes from the sky now that you mention it…” Joe shuddered while glancing upwards at the deep red midday sky.  
  
The conversation was drowned out by the idle purr of Rocket’s bike as he rode slow past them, his head rolling around on his shoulders.  
  
“I love that game.” He mumbled.  
  
The group continued walking onwards silently, their heads on swivels, Joe ready to draw his xiphos at a moment’s notice-  
  
And they froze as a small red skinned humanoid leaped out from behind a rock. It was almost completely naked, a small loincloth doing nothing to hide its grotesquely huge veiny cock that swayed, bobbed to and fro in the wind and with his every movement.  
  
Two completely tiny wings fluttered on its back as the imp pointed a clawed hand towards the four of them. “Aha, foolish humans! Wandering the wasteland unarmed!” It crackled in a high pitched voice. “Bow before your new master! Kneel and worship my glorious demon cock!” It thrusted its hips forward, causing its taint to violently sway and nearly smack itself in the face.  
  
Several beats passed, the four dudes quietly processing this new sight before them with confusion and surprise etched on their faces, Joe least of all because he really obviously had a sword on his hip. Eventually, all four turned to face each other, and in perfect unison said: “Corruption of Champions.”  
  
“Hey, don’t you ignore me!” The imp shouted in annoyance. “There’s nothing four humans could do against my great demonic might! Behold, my ultimate attack! Tremble before my alchemical powers of rape!”  
  
The imp pulled a flask of pink fluid off its belt, uncorked it and quickly threw it at Nilas with surprising accuracy. It hit his chest, splashing him with the strange smelling liquid.  
  
“Aha! You’ll soon fall to the lust of my potion, and I’ll pound your tight boy pussy before giving you an actual one!” The imp smiled lewdly and was already starting to stroke itself at the thought.  
  
The demon stood there watching them triumphantly. Except nothing happened.  
  
“Uh, any time now slave. Throw yourself at your new master!” The imp shouted at Nilas in frustration. “Why aren’t you obeying your lust?!”  
  
Nilas glanced down at the mess on shirt, taking a step back as he made an annoyed sound. He looked up, and while his face was slightly flushed he looked more annoyed than anything. “Well guess what, asshole, I was already horny. And not for you.”  
  
\---  
  
The imp cried out in terror and pain as a hail of feet continued to rain down upon its prostrate form. It futility tried to shield its face with its skinny arms, curling up into a pathetic ball on the ground.  
  
“How the fuck do we get out of the wasteland you scum-sucking little bag of fuck!?” Joe demanded as he harshly stomped on the helpless little rapist’s back.  
  
“You’re supposed to be the cum sucking fuck bag!” It shouted back in anger, but was cut off by a swift kick to the head. “Ow! Fuck, okay! Okay! I’ll tell you how to get out of here! Just stop kicking me!”  
  
The group stopped, glaring down at the little bastard, ready to start kicking and stomping again at a moment’s notice.  
  
The imp slowly uncurled and stood up on shaky legs. It was covered head to toe in bruises and cuts, blood almost seamlessly blending with its unnaturally red skin. It’s left eye was starting to swell shut too. “Okay, bastards, you go that way,” it gestured to its right, “and you’re going to end up in a forest. There’s a cave with a sign out front and it’s a safe haven for new arrivals. Go in, grab some food, have a good time, you know-”  
  
The little demon was promptly cut short as a steel-toed boot cracked against its jaw, a sickening crack filling the air before Rocket hoisted him up by the throat.  
  
“Listen to me, you fuckin’ sunburned lookin’ motherfucker-” The Biker started, pressing his fingers into the imp’s throat. “I’ve had a horrible fucking day so far, and I know you’re bullshitting us. Now, you can tell us something useful, or I’m gonna send your fucking nuts to Semas, Koomas, whatever that fucking motherfucker’s name is in a goddamned box.”  
  
“Who?! Zetaz? The fucking doorkeeper?!” The imp gurgled in confusion, protectively clutching his oversized testicles. “That low level wannabe cock sleeve?!”  
  
Joe looked between the other guys and flexed his foot a tad. “...Guess that means we’ve portaled in before the Champion then, huh?”  
  
“I guess, since wasn’t he passed over for a promotion for failing to capture and corrupt the Champion?” Booker mused out loud.  
  
Nilas didn’t contribute to the current topic, seeming a bit distracted as he glared at the imp still. “You know…” He quietly growled, almost to himself. “I’m almost tempted to slap the little shit in the face with my dick. See how he likes it.”  
  
Everyone just stopped, and started to stare at Nilas silently, including the imp.  
  
“Holy shit pretty boy, I think you’ve got what it takes to be a demon.” The imp smiled, showing its bloodied and crooked teeth. “How about an apprenticeship underneath me! You be my cock sleeve for a year or two, and I show you the ropes! Might even let you keep yours!”  
  
“...Shit, did I say that out loud?” Nilas awkwardly replied after a moment of staring at the imp in disgust.  
  
Joe sighed, shrugging his shoulders as he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Okay, we know we’re in Corruption of Champions, we should at least be able to figure out how to get to the lake. Can I impale this little bastard now?”  
  
“Woah, woah, woah! I ain’t open for anyone unless you’re packing ten inches or more! I ain’t some common fuck toy!” The imp yelled as it tried to struggle out of Rocket’s grasp.  
  
“Okay, I don’t mind. I just won’t watch.” Booker remarked as he turned around and walked a short distance away.  
  
Joe stared at the little demon in a highly unamused fashion as he drew his sword from its kydex sheath. “Pin it down Rocket. I’m stabbing it in the throat now.”  
  
The Biker nodded, stepping on the little semi-faggot’s wrists and peering down at the demon behind the emotionless mask of his visor.  
  
“Uh, come on guys! There’s no need to be so harsh!” The imp started pleading, suddenly realizing how fucked it was, and not in the way it wanted to be. “I wouldn’t have tried to keep all of you as slaves! Only the pretty boy! You would have been free, and in the spirit of fairness I think I should be let free-!”  
  
It was cut off by steel being plunged into its throat.  
  
\---  
  
“...Okay, that was fucking weird,” Joe stated as they sort of…  _phased_  into the bright green grassy shores of the lake after about a minute of walking in the wasteland, the sky even turning into a welcoming familiar blue. “Everyone still here?” He wasn’t particularly phased by having put down the imp. Turned out that horrible remorseless monstrous rapists weren’t all that difficult to deal with.  
  
“...Yeah.” Nilas replied, looking a little put off by what had happened just before. “You know… I was acting like it didn’t bother me, but even after seeing… that, that lust stuff is still working on me. That stuff is powerful.”  
  
“Go behind a tree. Take your time, I’ll wait.” Rocket mumbled, pressing his face into the handlebars of his bike.  
  
“Nah I’m good. I can handle it no problem.” Nilas waved off the comment.  
  
When the resident tall boy of the travelling Boy Band didn’t speak up next, the three of them looked over to where Booker had been standing and were stunned into silence. Towering over them was a minotaur, its broad chest bulging in muscles and breathing heavily through its bovine nostrils.  
  
It slowly turned towards them, it’s beady bull eyes staring into their collective souls, before politely coughing into its oversized hand. “Uh, excuse me gentlemen, it seems I’ve gotten turned around on a supply run.” It spoke with a slight French accent. “I apologize for any trouble or concern I might have caused, so I bid you au revoir gentlemen.”  
  
The minotaur tipped a large chef’s hat towards them before turning on its hooved foot and marching back into the tree line.  
  
They stared in shock, until seconds later Booker emerged from the forest, in the same spot the minotaur had disappeared into. He smiled in relief when he saw them. “Thank fuck! For a moment I thought I got fucking lost!”  
  
He walked up, scrunching his nose slightly. “Ugh, it smells like a bull in a pastry shop.”  
  
“...A minotaur popped up instead of you,” Joe breathed, his heart caught in his throat over how fucking  _horrifying_  their situation had been for a moment.  
  
“Hah, good one.” Booker laughed as he shook his head. “That’s really funny, but none of you are dead or impaled on a cock.”  
  
He only received three blank, terrified stares back in response.  
  
“What?” Booker asked, slightly perplexed.  
  
\---  
  
“...Well, that was easier than expected,” Joe stated as an old west-style American-style farm came into view from behind a hill. “Whitney’s farm though,” he stated as he motioned over the comfortably familiar view. “So, we gonna… uh, beg her to let us squat on the farm grounds? I don’t think that imp had enough gems on him to actually  _pay_  rent...”  
  
“I’d say offer to suck her cock, but I’m pretty sure she doesn't have one.” Booker sarcastically remarked as he looked over the farm.  
  
“Dude…what.” Nilas said after a moment, giving the man a look.  
  
“You fuckin’ gay, bro?” Rocket asked, turning and giving the brunette a blank look.  
  
“It ain’t gay when it’s girl cock, bro.” Booker retorted, taking the piss.  
  
“No, that’s pretty fuckin’ gay.” The Biker responded. “It’s like saying the asshole of a man is fucking feminine because he rubbed some Nair on it.”  
  
“Yeah dude, that’s real fuckin’ gay,” Joe agreed, nodding along with Rocket’s assessment as he adjusted the straps of his hiking bag. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that…”  
  
“Nah.” Nilas interjected. “It’s like, one-fifth gay if anything. Also, I don’t think assholes work like that. They all look the same regardless of gender.”  
  
“We have a word for you people back in the States.” Rocket wasn’t letting up. “It’s called being in denial.”  
  
“It ain’t just a river in Egypt man,” Joe said through lidded eyes as he scanned the farm for any signs of the resident dog-morph running the place.  
  
“...That’s not one word. Unless you mean denial itself. Then it’s out of context.” Nilas looked at Rocket like he was an idiot.  
  
“Look, you say gay, but if she’s got a good figure and tits it ain’t gay.” Booker continued to defend his claim, not actually caring or serious in the least. “Even if she’s bigger or blows a load in ya, cause it’s a feminine penis.” He continued to verbally shitpost.  
  
“Those two words aren’t meant to be combined!” Rocket retorted.  
  
“You know, all this talk about feminine penis has made me even hornier. Can we get down there so I can find somewhere to jerk off?” The blonde pointed at the farm in the distance, expression purposely flat.  
  
“Jesus Christ….” The Biker mumbled, cradling his face in his hands. “You two are some sick fucks.”  
  
Nilas reached for the hem of his pants, looking at the three. “I mean, I could do it right here if you guys want to keep talking…”  
  
“Alright, alright, let’s get a move on you filthy fucking shitposters,” Joe started as he began walking down the hill. “Glad to see interacting with you fucks in real life is just as fun as I thought it’d be, though.”  
  
“Shame about the unfortunate circumstances, though.” Booker remarked, nodding in approval. “Still, been a hoot and a half so far.”  
  
“Yeah, bit of a further shame that we’re missing a man, but… well, not unfortunate for him considering where we wound up, but whatever, let’s mosey pardners,” the shorter Canuck motioned towards the farm again.  
  
“This place is like a multidimensional crossroads, right?” Nilas said after a moment, “Still a chance we could find a way back…”  
  
“Yeah, there’s a lot of ways into it, but no way out.” Booker said as he wracked his memory for details about CoC that wasn’t purely sex scenes… Which was more than he thought it would be.  
  
“Sounds like a bad relationship.” Rocket grunted, cracking his neck.  
  
“...A surprisingly apt analogy, considering where we are…” Joe nodded as the party neared the calm farm.  
  
\---  
  
“...Well, if y’all are willin’ to help around the farm so long as you’re gonna be stayin’ I guess I don’t see nothin’ wrong with that,” Whitney stated with a drawl as she rested her chin on an open palm, knelt down in the rich soil staining the knees of her simple overalls.  
  
Joe, for his part, was doing his damndest to not think too hard about the fact that he was interacting with an actual fucking furry right then, like, an actual literal dog-woman with fur and everything.  
  
Booker kept a stoic expression in spite of the slightly uncanny appearance of the dog woman. She wasn’t quite at the bottom of the uncanny valley, but she was dangerously bordering it. She looked too much like an animal to truly trigger it.  
  
“That sounds like an entirely acceptable deal, yes.” He politely agreed. “Your hospitality is most appreciated.”  
  
Rocket was screaming internally at the sight of the furry abomination standing before them.  
  
Thank God for helmets, for it concealed his contorted visage that resembled one of absolute horror. Furries looked fucking terrifying.  
  
Nilas tried his hardest not to stare at the woman in front of them. The last thing he wanted to do was piss her off, because he couldn’t keep his eyes to himself. It was different, seeing an actual furry anthro whatever in front of him. A bit strange, but it didn’t seem wrong. It was just… exotic.  
  
Of course, he wasn’t sure if that was the lust stuff or not. He was pretty horny after all. Still, dog girl? Pretty cute regardless. She was like a big fluffy golden lab.  
  
“Well, alright, for now y’all just tour the farm to get yourselves familiar with the place, y’all can work for the nights you’re gonna stay after tonight, otherwise you come and go as you please, sounds good?” The dog-girl asked as she plucked another canine pepper from its place and dropped it in a basket.  
  
“YUP,” Joe replied probably a little too quickly and forcefully, so off-put by her…  _inhuman_  appearance was he. She either didn’t notice, or didn’t care.  
  
“That sounds fair.” Booker nodded in agreement.  
  
“Sure thing.” Nilas added, giving her a friendly grin.  
  
“Just don’t go around barking orders at me.” Rocket replied, slapping his motorcycle.  
  
Ba dum, tsh.  
  
She quirked an eyebrow at the biker, giving him a blank look. “If you’re gonna be living on my farm, you’re gonna be taking orders like any other farmhand, reasonable enough demand I think given y’all just dropped on my front door like a bat outta hell without warning.”  
  
“It was a pun.” Rocket sighed, nodding. “You got it, Boss.”  
  
“Glad we’re on the same page. Now y’all skee-daddle out of here, I’ve got things to do and y’all gotta figure your way around the farm. If any of you need me, just howl anytime,” she declared with a dismissive wave as she continued to drop peppers in her woven basket.  
  
“Can we get a task list or something?” Rocket asked.  
  
“You deaf, boy? No work today, just familiarize yourselves with the farm, I’ll have something for y’all to do in the morning, now scat!” She repeated with a shooing motion.  
  
“Yeah okay, old yeller.” The Biker grumbled, sauntering off on his own.  
  
Booker complied, not wanting to annoy their new host any more than Rocket was.  
  
Notably, Rocket seemed to be making tracks with no intention of waiting for the others as he moved in the direction of his parked motorcycle, and after spending a moment looking at the pepper bushes curiously, Nilas also made himself scarce.  
  
Likely to find a secluded barn to relieve himself behind considering the state the Lust Draft had put him in, leaving Booker and Joe standing alone in a fairly ordinary-looking farm.  
  
Then a cowgirl wandered between a pair of buildings, her enormous chest and cute tail casually waving behind her as she paid no particular mind to the pair of displaced Canadians on her way to whatever she was doing.  
  
“That was a lot easier than I was expecting, and…” he paused, taking a moment to just look around them quietly. “We’re actually in fucking Mareth, aren’t we?” Joe asked while staring off into the ether.  
  
“What gave it away?” Booker deadpanned in response. “The big dicked imp, the dog woman, or the big titted cowgirl…” He trailed off as his gaze followed said cowgirl.  
  
“Dude, we’re interdimensional travellers…” Joe started with a blank stare. “We’re… dude, are  _we_  the Champions?”  
  
“Yeah, well I agree with the first part anyway… interdimensional travellers. I wonder if the concept is easier for people that grew up with magic and shit like this to accept.” Booker mused, pulling his gaze from the chick and looking off into the hazy distance. “Though we weren’t picked and sent over by anyone, so I don’t think we’re the champions of anything really.”  
  
“The hell do you know we weren’t intentionally brought over here?” Joe shot back with furrowed brows and clenched fists. “Just because nothing grabbed us mid-transit to explain our purpose in minute detail doesn’t mean we, four guys that actually knew each other but lived in different parts of the world, weren’t all brought here by sheer fucking chance.”  
  
“Well yeah, but I meant that the Champion was picked by their village and intentionally sent over with an express purpose.” Booker shrugged in response. “We’re just four dudes.”  
  
“As a  _sacrifice to the demons_ ,” Joe immediately countered. “They only became an actual Champion because they rose to the occasion… and on top of that, at least Rocket and I are better equipped for Championing than they were when they started out.”  
  
“True, but I’m just pointing out that we technically aren’t  _the_ Champion, which is… arguing semantics I guess. I don’t know man, I’m not exactly cut out for adventuring.” Booker replied.  
  
Joe was silent as he continued to anxiously clench and unclench his hands, his brow tightly knitted as he was deep in thought about their situation, about Mareth’s situation. “...The Champion started from nothing too… and I’m not willing to just gamble on the possibility that our appearance here is just pure happenstance.”  
  
He nodded, his eyes filling with a grim determination.  
  
“I’m… at least until we can at least confirm that the canon Champion exists, I’m going to train, and hopefully we’ll be able to achieve the same level of power that they can. I’m not going to just sit around doing nothing while the corruption spreads, claims more and more of Mareth, bringing doom upon everyone.”  
  
Booker was silent for a few seconds before responding. “I understand how you feel man, but I don’t think I could contribute much. Not unless we’re suddenly operating under different rules and can get fit quickly.” He shrugged and smirked. “Besides, I got an idea for earning money to buy strength potions or tea, and it mostly involves whoring myself out to futas. Suck dick for bus fare then walk home type of business plan.”  
  
Joe was silent for a moment, then quietly turned to regard Booker with unblinking eyes. “...If you hadn’t been referencing our missing bearded companion, I’d have thought you were being serious, knowing the kind of shameless horndog you are.”  
  
“That’s why I said it.” He laughed at his own joke then shook his head. “Besides, I’d do that for free, so it’d be a bad business model.” He said in a lighthearted tone.  
  
“...Right, whatever floats your boat man,” Joe started with a mild shrug as he placed his hands in his jacket pockets. “I’m gonna just focus on getting stronger and more skilled, just in case we actually are the Champions and the fate of the world rests on our shoulders. I’m not just gonna roll over and let Lethice take everything, y’know?”  
  
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Booker’s expression hardened. “In all seriousness, I’m willing to bite the bullet and start eating some transformatives to get a leg up, in addition to strength potions, magic, and regular training. I’m rather fond of myself, but I can live with a tail or some minor physical quirks…. Minor ones only.” He clarified. “I don’t want to be some fucking anthro beast man shit.”  
  
“I’m sure Nilas will be taking care of that shortly enough,” Joe asserted with a mild grin. “That dude’s gonna be in hog heaven once we encounter some loose anthros.”  
  
“I’d be amazed if he made it through the day without eating a canine pepper to be honest.” Booker stated, only half-joking. “Though I think he wants to fuck the dog chick more than be one.”  
  
“Yeah, knowing him…” Joe trailed off as the weight of their situation really started to bear down on his shoulders. “...Well, we’d best take Whitney’s advice and then hunker down for the night. We did a lot of walking, and my feet hurt.”  
  
“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” Booker agreed as the pair started sauntering off to explore the farm grounds. “Let’s hope life doesn’t throw more shit our way tomorrow.”


	2. Gotta go Fast

Booker had decided that he wanted to actually explore the farm as per Whitney’s instruction. Joe, however, was feeling too restless, and decided that he’d wanted to actually go out and explore the lake shore. He wasn’t going to get stronger by sitting around on his hands, after all.  
  
He’d made a point to empty his bag of supplies that weren’t rations (trail mix was perfectly viable short-term rations, fuck you) or medical in nature, made sure his sword was secured in place, and moved for the entrance to the farm, marked by a helpful large portcullis around a wooden palisade. Rather like Lon Lon Ranch of Ocarina of Time.  
  
As he neared the main gate, he spotted a familiar Biker leaning against his bike.  
  
_Wfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff._  
  
“Huahhhh….” Rocket sighed, a torrential cloud of vapor coming forth from his lungs as he leaned against his bike. Nestled in his grasp was a vape the size of his palm, the tip of which was currently pressed tween the crack in his visor and his mouth.  
  
Upon noticing Joe, Rocket nodded, extending the electronic brick towards the Canuck.  
  
“Wanna hit?”  
  
“Nah, I don’t vape.” Joe waved the offer off. “I’m gonna go and explore the lake, for practise. You comin’?”  
  
The Biker shrugged. “Sure, fuck it. We walkin’ or ridin’?”  
  
“We should conserve fuel for the bike, don’t know when we’ll actually need it,” Joe replied. “You concealed carry, right? Just a pistol, or you got a knife on you as well?”  
  
“I’m always locked and loaded.” Rocket replied, cracking his knuckles. “What about you? Pack your damn trail mix?”  
  
“You laugh now, but in an hour when we’re still wandering around out there and hungry you’re gonna be asking for some fucking peanuts. Unless you have like, a bag of chips on you or something. I dunno, you actually tend to be prepared for shit, so you’re probably good…”  
  
Joe rambled for a moment before catching himself.  
  
“ _Anyways_ , we better start hoofin’ it. Demons aren’t going to find and eviscerate themselves,” he declared as he started walking off down the trail leading away from the farm again.  
  
“Dude, you killed like one imp and I had to hold it down for you.” Rocket ribbed, “You ain’t a fuckin’ demon killer.”  
  
“Alright, next pair we encounter we fight individually, and no using your gun,” Joe challenged. “Melee weapons only, like a good and proper crusader.”  
  
“That ain’t fair!” Rocket scoffed. “My boot knife is only five inches long. And depending on where we wind up, it ain’t gonna do anything but piss them off.”  
  
“I see your bait, and I refuse it,” Joe declared haughtily as the pair descended the hill the farm was located atop towards the sandy lakeshore. “Booker or Nilas might have taken it, but I ain’t no degenerate.”  
  
“Yeah, those two are sick fucks.” The Biker agreed. He shifted his gaze towards the lake, his eyes lingering on the shimmering shores for a moment before continuing. “We’ve found the lake at any rate.”  
  
Taking a step forward, Rocket slid down the precipice, gloved fingers digging into the sand and dirt before he came to a stop at the bottom.  
  
“Well, keep your eyes peeled. Don’t want to get ganked.”  
  
“That we do not,” Joe agreed as he dropped down and started walking along the shore, his feet sinking into the wet sand and being engulfed by water. “Gah, fuck! Didn’t think it’d be so-” He pulled his foot. It was stuck.  
  
He paused a moment, then pulled harder, but it wasn’t giving. It took him a moment to notice that his foot had come clear of the mud, and as actually stuck in the  _water_.  
  
Then, he noticed the glowing red heart and the pair of alarmingly human-like eyes excitedly gazing up at him.  
  
“AHHH! SLIME GIRL, FUCK FUCK, ROCKET HELP AHHHH!” Joe squealed like a girl as he started being drawn into the water by his leg, the blue slime rapidly climbing up his leg and further cementing its grip on his limb.  
  
Rocket, however, was too busy ripping a dank, fat ass vape.  
  
He coughed, idly looking up at Joe. “Fight individually, bro.”  
  
“That was for imps you fucking cunt, I’m gonna be drowned-!” He was cut off by being jerked suddenly into the water, his voice turning into a panicked gurgle, followed by his sword flailing around in the air as the Canuck panicked, disoriented and struggling against his cheerful captor.  
  
“Alright, alright! Hold on…” Rocket mumbled out, looking around for something to distract the goo girl.  
  
There was nothing but sand, water, and the panic induced cries of his about to be raped friend.  
  
“Ah, damn it all.”  
  
The Biker surged forward, rearing his hand back and plunging his fist first into the slime’s chest, grunting as he hilted himself further and further until he was inside her up to his elbow.  
  
Rummaging around blind, he tried his damndest to find the heart, wiggling his appendage around inside of the semi-permeable chick.  
  
[Unfortunately, she grew even  _more_  excited](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tao67Idz3Uc) at the sudden and unexpected surprise insertion, and clamped down  _hard_ , giving Rocket a wide, open-mouth smile of pure delight as she started sucking on him as well.  
  
Joe started cursing and howling in horror as the girl seemed to figure out how pants worked and started working at his zipper. “FUCKING FUCK AH GOD FUCK THIS ISN’T HOW I THOUGHT THIS WAS GONNA GO!!!” He cried out as he fumbled and grasped at her gooey appendage, fighting to keep her from violating him as she continued to pull himself and Rocket to the ground.  
  
Rocket’s fingers brushed up against her heart, the goo girl suddenly stiffening as her hold around his arm seemed to tighten. Then came the moment where she recovered, shooting the Biker a glare of UTMOST BETRAYAL.  
  
Which was immediately followed by the flat of a sword smacking her in the face, stunning her and disrupting her form as she was briefly reduced to a quivering puddle.  
  
“FUCKING CHEESE IT AHHHH!” Joe screamed as he wretched himself free and started bolting for the treeline, soaked head to toe with water and mud streaming off of him as he clutched his short sword with one hand and held up his undone pants with the other.  
  
Rocket streaked past Joe with ease, lurching up and grabbing the ridgeline before pulling himself up with the physical prowess only the taxpayers of the United States could provide.  
  
Quickly enough, the pair found themselves crumbled in a heap as they stared back at the shoreline, where the slime girl had reformed, rose to her gooey feet, and was now pouting at the pair with her arms crossed over her generous, translucent bosom.  
  
Brushing soggy wet hair from his face, Joe took a few moments to catch his breath as he stared back at the pale imitation eyes of the goo girl and eventually spoke up. “...Did… did we just get dunked on by a fucking early game trash mob?”  
  
Rocket pulled up his visor, slime streaking across his helmet as he gasped for air. “Y-Yeah, I think we just did.”  
  
He fumbled for his back pocket, aiming to calm his nerves in one of the only ways he knew how.  
  
Only to find nothing…  
  
“Where’s…” Rocket started, patting himself over. “Where’s my vape?”  
  
Joe silently raised his free hand, pointing back at the goo girl that’d just violated them.  
  
She was curiously looking over the device in her slimy hands.  
  
“HEY!” Rocket cried out from over the cliff, shaking his fist. “YOU GIVE THAT BACK!”  
  
The girl palmed the device in her hand with wide eyes, before gingerly placing the nozzle between her lips.  
  
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DO IT!”  
  
She inhaled, a thick cloud of vape filling her body, turning what was once translucent skin into a whirling cloud of menthol scented film. She smiled widely at the draw, and seemed quite content with her new acquisition as she took another hit with a pleased grin.  
  
The Biker fumbled with his waist for but a moment, pulling out his .45 Glock and chambering a round.  
  
“DUDE HOLY SHIT WAIT-” Joe cried out as he clapped his hands over his ears once he noticed what Rocket was doing, only to be cut off when Rocket fired a round, the casing tumbling to the grassy earth as the bullet skimmed across the lake.  
  
Once more he squeezed the trigger, the bullet slamming into the slime with deadly force.  
  
Or at least he thought it did, only to notice the round do little more than cause her buxom chest to jiggle lightly.  
  
The goo girl looked down, pursing her lips in curiosity, the bullet falling out of her body with little more than a muffled plop.  
  
“FUUUUUUUUCK!” Rocket roared. “MY DRUUUUUGS!”  
  
The goo girl glanced up at Rocket curiously, then drew on the vape again with a contented smile before she about-faced and returned to the waters from whence she came, leaving the pair alone as the American continued to point his now trembling pistol at the lake and Joe grimacing in dumbstruck horror at him.  
  
“Dude!” Joe started as he clambered to his feet, making sure his pants were secured around his waist properly. “What the actual fuck!? You can’t replace those fucking bullets here, you know! Also, over-fucking-reaction much!?”  
  
“You can’t replace a vape either!” Rocket retorted, flicking on the safety of his gun before sliding it back into the holster. “And I think we both learned that shooting them doesn’t do shit either!”  
  
“They have recreational drugs in Mareth, for Christ’s sake,” Joe pressed. “You can make due with whatever shit they’ll have in Tel’Adre, save your rounds for actual bad situations when we need something dead as quickly as possible because lives are on the line or some shit!”  
  
The Canuck wiped his brow, and gazed out into the Lake where the goo girl had retreated, his body tense as he started trying to wipe some of the slime which had stuck to his clothes off.  
  
“And I think we both learned a fair bit more than just that. We’re the half of the team that’s best equipped for fighting, and a fucking slime just wrecked our shit. We need to get better, or we aren’t making a difference in this shithole world.”  
  
“Is it a personal problem, or an equipment problem?” Rocket asked.  
  
“Both,” Joe began as he griped over his inability to get the goop off of his pants. “Fucking minotaurs explicitly have steel-like skin… but there’s crazy shit in this world that should be able to buff the shit out of us. Vitality Tinctures, Scholar’s Tea, that kind of stuff. We just need to find it and keep training and getting better gear.”  
  
Joe grabbed at a large clump of gel and pulled it off of his leg with all his might, and it eventually came free. It was the size of a hockey puck.  
  
“...Starting out with Gel armour,” Joe stated with a resolved nod. “Rathazhul, the rat alchemist dude, if you collect enough of these things, he can make armour from it,” the Canuck declared as he looked over the hunk of slime which was rapidly changing into a chunk of solid gel. “Dumb fantasy logic, but it works.”  
  
“First you gotta find the old fuck.” Rocket noted, shaking a glob of slime off his sleeve. “Then, you have to find the gems to pay him with.”  
  
He gestured around him. “As you can see, we got our shit kicked in from a low level gooey slut and currently have even less than what we started out with.”  
  
“...Let’s head back to the farm, I don’t wanna hang around the lake for the rest of the day. That goopy bitch is probably just hanging around waiting for us to wander too close to the water again,” Joe said has he picked his sword back up and groaned at how badly their first real fight went. “Rathazhul isn’t going anywhere, probably.”  
  
“Right behind ya.” Rocket concurred.  
  
Joe nodded. “Okay, let’s just get on back before anything else happens-”  
  
“HA! Puny humans!” A terrible, high-pitched whiny voice cried out as a short, bright red little demon bastard jumped out from behind a tree, his enormous willy billowing in the wind. “I’ve been looking for a pair of good new cock-slaves to make my bitches! Both of you slaves get on your knees and-”  
  
He was cut off by twenty-six inches of steel embedding itself in his skull.  
  
\---  
  
“...Well, a handful of gems is a lot better than nothing,” Joe grumbled as he patted his still damn pocket as the pair approached the farm again. “Those little bastards are bizarrely overconfident, though…”  
  
“Yeah, okay demon killer.” Rocket trailed off, wiping the blood from his visor. “We should just roll around the forest like some fuckin’ imp kill squad.”  
  
“If not for tentacle beasts, I’d be cool with that… maybe we should just explore the… grasslands, was it?” Joe nodded with a finger raised to his chin. “That bland no-name explore option. Nothing but imps and goblins ever attack there.”  
  
“Sounds like a plan.” Rocket agreed, “But we should get one more person if we’re able.”  
  
As they approached the farm, they saw their taller friend walk over to them.  
  
“Hey guys,” Booker called out, “how’d the little lake shore walk around go? Cause it looks like it went like shit.”  
  
“A goo girl grabbed my dick and stole Rocket’s vape,” Joe growled in a deadpan voice as he slowly shuffled his way up the hill. “Also, we killed a few imps on our way back and got some money.”  
  
Booker looked their blue stained forms up and down for a moment before responding. “Yeah, definitely looks like it. Gotta watch out for those goo girls man, there’s no game mechanics to protect you from them.”  
  
“We noticed,” Joe grumbled through lidded eyes. “So, did anything happen while we were gone?”  
  
“Uh, not really no, met Marble, she’s nice.” Booker replied, blushing slightly. “She's not the only cow girl, surprisingly. Besides that I just walked around. There’s a bunch of regular cows as well…” He paused for a moment as he was struck by a thought. “I wonder how many of them used to be people.”  
  
“What? Why?” Joe asked with a quirked eyebrow.  
  
“Cause I vaguely recall a few bad ends where if you eat enough transformatives you either end up being an animal companion of the next champion or on this farm.” He explained himself and shrugged. “It’s just an idle thought.”  
  
“Then don’t eat enough fucking transformatives to turn yourself into an actual cow,” Joe asserted with a shrug. “Cooking transformative food is enough to make it safe to eat, so you have no one to blame but yourself if you turn yourself into a steer.”  
  
“We gotta watch out for Nilas then.” Rocket noted, placing a hand on his chest as he fumbled for a pack of smokes. “That guy will probably fuck himself over in more ways than one.”  
  
“Hate to say I agree, but I agree,” Joe nodded as he leaned on the palisade of the farm. “That guy’s a little too xenophilic for his own good, considering where we are.”  
  
“Yeah, I just hope we can recognize him when everything’s said and done.” Booker remarked, frowning a bit.  
  
“Probably not, unless we get him to wear something distinctive 24/7 no matter his current form…” Joe sighed as he crossed his arms and gazed upwards at the calming blue sky. “...Place seems downright normal when there are no anthros or demons around, doesn’t it?”  
  
The moment of peace was interrupted by an imp flying through the sky on its tiny wings. The little demon was loudly cackling and rubbing its clawed hands together as he flew towards the farm.  
  
Only to be stuck in the chest by an arrow and begin plummeting towards the ground. It landed a fair distance away, hitting a sandbank away from the farm.  
  
“...Glad to see confirmation that Kelt’s hard at work…” Joe groaned as he ruefully dropped his gaze back down to ground level. “Should probably look into getting a bow from him. I could hunt with one, so I should be able to figure out how to fight with one quickly enough.”  
  
“Oh right, the asshole centaur motherfucker. I just remembered he existed.” Booker snapped his fingers.  
  
“He would demand the Champion strip down after a few training sessions… but like I said, I already know how to use a bow, so whatever, I just need to get that from him and I’ll be good to go,” the shorter Canuck declared as he pushed himself off the palisade. “That can wait, though. We were gonna just sit around here, but you wanna go hunting imps and looking for uncorrupted people?” Joe asked the taller man.  
  
“Uh, sure, I guess,” He hesitantly agreed. “It’s just that I’ve never killed anything before, never went hunting, so I’m not sure how I’d feel about killing imps. In spite of how fucking awful they are.”  
  
Joe nodded, and moved to stand near the farm’s exit again. “I’ll wait here while you go find a weapon dude.”  
  
“Okay, I’ll see if I can borrow a shovel.” Booker nodded in agreement. “Hopefully Whitney doesn’t mind me using one for combat…” He trailed off as he started towards a tool shed he saw earlier.  
  
\---  
  
Once armed the three amigos left the farm and began walking towards the lake shore. They took care to not get too close to the water and avoided stepping in any puddles along their way. It was actually a calm walk for the most part, until Joe stopped ahead of them, squinting at something off in the distance.  
  
“...That’s a real pretty fucking tree man,” he called back. “If I’m remembering correctly, the Beautiful Sword was stuck in one such inexplicably pretty tree on the beach…” He started walking again, his pace quickened a fair amount.  
  
Booker followed behind him, squinting at the tree in the distance. “I do recall that but I don’t know how you’d qualify a tree as pretty.” He sarcastically remarked out loud.  
  
Rocket followed wordlessly as the trio quickly advanced on the tree in question, and they soon found themselves standing before it.  
  
The thing was positively glowing with what could only be described as divine beauty, standing out and beckoning attention to it. And lo and behold, thrust hilt-deep near the base…  
  
“Well slap my ass and call me Sally…” Joe breathed in awe as he knelt down to examine the exposed grip, seemingly untouched by the ravages of nature. “You can guys can literally  _feel_  the divine power radiating off of that sword hilt too, right?”  
  
Booker stared at the tree in [awe](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wuSu6q7fuq4), actually stunned by its appearance and… aura. He could feel the power flowing through its roots, even without physically touching it. “Okay… that’s a pretty beautiful tree.”  
  
“I know I often say fuck mother nature,” Rocket started, looking at the tree. “But I could probably put my dick in that tree right now.”  
  
Joe’s attention was broken, and he slowly turned to face the biker. “...Suddenly I’m concerned about the idea of you being let near Marae.”  
  
“The splinters in the dick would be a good lesson though.” Booker mused, not taking his eyes off the divine tree. “So, anyone want to do the honours and become King of England?”  
  
“Firstly, fuck you for that tenuous reference,” Joe declared through lidded eyes, “Secondly…” He placed his hand on the hilt, and pulled.  
  
And pulled.  
  
Then stopped, placed a foot on the tree, and kept pulling.  
  
Then placed his other foot on the tree and kept pulling.  
  
The sword didn’t budge.  
  
“What- the- FUCK,” Joe cried out as his hand slipped and he was sent tumbling backwards onto the ground with a dull thump and much grumbling and griping. “God fucking… the hell!? That thing’s supposed to come out like nothing for a pure character!”  
  
“None of us ate anything that could have possibly had any corruption in it, and Alec was the one hit by the lust draft. So, you should be able to pull it out.” Booker wondered as he looked at the sword. He stepped forward and gave an experimental tug of his own and found it completely unmoving. He moved out of the way to let the last of them have a go at the sword.  
  
Rocket  **FIRMLY GRASPED IT**.  
  
Giving it a light tug, he shrugged when it didn’t immediately come out. “Welp, I’m not the chosen one guys.”  
  
“...Okay, this is weird,” Joe began as he climbed to his feet, dusting himself off and grumbling to himself. “Maybe not everything’s one-to-one with the game…”  
  
“Yeah, I guess not.” Booker agreed.  
  
“...Wonder what the requirements to draw the thing are then. Maybe we have to meet Marae first-?” Joe began, but was cut off by movement out of the corner of his eye, back towards the lake.  
  
It was the little vape thief goo girl, still sucking on Rocket’s vape and apparently permanently smokey now. And she’d brought reinforcements with her this time, a pair of other goos flanking her, with an imitation bob cut and ponytail to differentiate them from her long, loose and goopy hair.  
  
They looked  _very_  happy to see the three amigos as they clambered out of the water with wide smiles on their faces and started approaching them with wide open arms, leaving trails of goo behind them.  
  
“Aw man, you camping slut.” Rocket growled, turning to his pals. “Alright guys, I got an idea.”  
  
“What’s your idea?” Booker asked, looking at the goo girls with a bit of trepidation.  
  
Rocket abruptly span on his heel, a dirt trail kicking up behind him as he ran off.  
  
“RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIIIFE!”  
  
Having had the same idea, Joe had taken off right behind Rocket, not really wanting to get raped, the pair making trails as they beelined for the trees.  
  
“I knew you were going to say that!” Booker shouted as he turned to follow, not wanting to get left behind.  
  
The expressions on the goos fell immediately into a trio of imminently dissatisfied pouts, the leader of the little group only somewhat mollified by taking another long drag of Rocket’s stolen vape, adding to her already smokey complexion.  
  
\---  
  
Eventually, the trio came to a jarring stop as they had to cease fleeing and catch their breath, leaning heavily against trees in the heavily forested location they’d fled into to escape from the goopy clutches of the watery tarts.  
  
“Holy… fuck…” Joe gasped for air as he struggled to keep himself upright. “I hate… being so…  _fucking weak._ ”  
  
Booker was breathing heavily as he leaned against a tree. “Yeah… fuck… this.” He agreed out of breath.  
  
Rocket leaned up against a nearby rock, a cigarette poking out from his mouth. “Ya’ll really outta breath?”  
  
He fumbled for his lighter.  
  
But there was no lighter.  
  
“Don’t tell me….” The Biker sighed, “I DROPPED IT?!”  
  
“Knowing our luck… the vape thief has it now,” Joe said as he rested his hands on the back of his head, managing to get his breathing under control.  
  
“Hah.” Booker said, still leaning against a tree and breathing heavily. “Smoking’s bad… for ya… anyway.”  
  
Rocket could only point behind them. “Tuh...tuh….tuh…”  
  
Joe  _immediately_  bolted off, not waiting to find out what had Rocket, the trained soldier, spooked, bursting through the dense foliage of the forest and leaving the two behind as he sprinted back for the farm.  
  
Booker’s gaze looked to where Rocket was pointing and froze. Lumbering towards them was a mound of green flesh, tentacle-like vines waving haphazardly in the air. Dozens of beady eyes littering it’s bloated form swivelled and fixated on the two of them, and its beaks let out an earth shaking screech.  
  
The lumbering monster moved with more speed than its size suggested, shambling towards them.  
  
Booker froze for but a second before turning and running after Joe.  
  
Rocket, living up to his name, bolted past the two with ease. “GOTTA GO FAST!”  
  
And so, the three brave heroes valiantly tactically retreated to their castle to fight another day.


	3. Men at Work

Booker was staring up at the bottom of the bunk above him. They were given a cramped room in a bunkhouse beside the barn, and stuffed into a room with two bunk beds. It seemed that in better times Whitney actually had more farmhands, though that was long since passed.  
  
He was still surprised that there was a couple other people on the farm. It was a small collection of refugees displaced by the demons…  
  
“Fuck.” He swore under his breath. “This is actually happening, isn’t it?”  
  
The day had been… shocking. He was still processing everything and somehow managing to roll with the punches thrown his way so far… a single day’s worth, and there was plenty more in the future.  
  
“Seems that way…” Joe quietly replied from the top bunk.  
  
“Yep, no surprise Mister Insomnia is still awake.” Booker mirthlessly joked.  
  
“Fuck off man,” Joe growled back. “I’ve been running on pure forward momentum, but now that I’m stuck just laying here… we’re actually fucking here. In Mareth…”  
  
He shifted uncomfortably on his mattress.  
  
“I’ve fucking taken lives… violently.” Joe whispered as he glanced at his sword sitting in the corner of the room.  
  
“Yeah, been a heavy day.” Booker replied as he blankly stared ahead of himself. “And I don’t think they’re going to get lighter any time soon.”  
  
“Not with the path I’ve picked, no…” Joe intoned.  
  
“I’d try to talk you off it man, but I know how you feel. I’m pretty sure I’m going to end up walking it as well.” Booker replied before sighing. “If there’s any bright side at least we’re suffering together with friends.”  
  
“Duty calls and misery loves company...” Joe trailed off.  
  
“...Do we really even need to do that, though.” Croaked the half-asleep Nilas, “I mean, eventually a Champion has to come through and fix it all, right?”  
  
“Possibly… Though that’s really holding out hope for something that might not come.” Booker retorted. “There were plenty of ‘Champions’ before the one in the game, and a shit ton of other random people like us who got dumped here.”  
  
Rocket sat up from his position on his bunk, having finished assembling his gun for what seemed like the third time.  
  
“Regardless,” He started, racking the slide once more before tucking it back into its holster. “This world- it’s a violent place. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you all that unlike Earth, shit here happens fast, and one moment you could either be dead or no longer in the right state of mind.”  
  
He cleared his throat, spitting a loogie into a nearby bucket. “Welcome to Mareth. Enjoy your fuckin’ stay.”  
  
“One wrong step, and I was utterly fucked. Only reason I got out of being grabbed by that slime was because you were there,” Joe replied darkly. “And I’m the second-best for like, actually  _surviving_ in this world on my own here.”  
  
“But if we survive long enough and get our hands on the right items, we’d be breaking a lot of backs over our collective knees.” Booker mused, sounding somewhat optimistic. “It’s a long road, but in gamey terms, grinding imps for money and buying buffs could totally work.”  
  
Turning over onto his side, Joe stared out the nearby window to the dark farmland outside as sleep continued to elude him. “Gonna have to be imps, given how badly we were wrecked by  _one_  fucking slime…”  
  
“They definitely deserve it.” Booker remarked.  
  
“Either way, we’re gonna have to get better… Rocket,” Joe started looking to the Biker. “Think you’ll be able to train us into being half-way competent?”  
  
“In what way?” Rocket asked, looking up. There was a glint of seriousness in his eyes, something not usually there.  
  
“Combat, survival,” Joe began. “I’ve got the will, but not the training, while Booker and Nilas are…” He looked over the other half of their little group. “Well…” he motioned over the pair.  
  
“Well I’m a civvie and out of shape. I’d like to help but honestly I have no idea how helpful I could be.” Booker replied, shrugging his shoulders.  
  
“I’m a civvie as well, and in Mareth muscles are stupidly easy to gain-” the shorter of the two Canucks stopped and furrowed his brow in thought. “Actually… does it actually work like that here…?”  
  
“I don’t know, but I hope it does.” Booker responded. “It’d make it easier to get into shape.”  
  
“Yeah, it would,” Nilas helpfully added.  
  
“Regardless, you gonna help?” Joe asked Rocket again.  
  
Swinging his legs over his bunk, Rocket stood, removing his jacket and hanging it up on on topmost bedpost. He turned to his compatriots, eyeing them once over before slowly nodding his head.  
  
“Alright,” He started, cracking his neck. “We’ll start now.”  
  
Booker sat up and stared at Rocket in confusion. “Uh, Rocket, we’ve got work tomorrow, so I rather sleep than bust my balls at two in the morning.”  
  
“You’re going to have to wake up even earlier if you want to train.” Rocket reprimanded. “I get up at four everyday.”  
  
“And Whitney commanded everyone to go to bed for work in the morning-” Joe started with lidded eyes.  
  
“FUCK. THAT. SHIT!” The Biker shouted.  
  
Booker stared at Rocket, surprised by the outburst, and laid back down and rolled over. There were other labourers on the house, and didn’t want Whitney bursting into the room and reprimanding him along with Rocket.  
  
“Do you have what it takes to be the meanest, the cruelest, the most sadist unforgiving motherfuckers in God’s cruel kingdom?”  
  
He began to pace back and forth.  
  
“Will you be able to one day say, ‘Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest motherfucker in the Goddamned valley?’”  
  
He came to a stop, peering down at Booker’s prostrated form.  
  
“We shall fucking see.”  
  
Just as he finished that statement, the door to the their bunk swung open harshly, a very irate dog morph giving the soldier a highly bemused glare.  
  
“AHHH, A WEREWOLF?!?!” Rocket screamed like a little girl.  
  
The reaming he’d received for shouting in the middle of the common house in the middle of the night while the rest of the labourers and cowgirls were trying to sleep was a very savage one.  
  
\---  
  
[Justin Timberlake ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FdSRfdu_dLU)drifted out the barn doors, a shirtless Rocket idly swinging his hips as he tossed yet another bale of hay onto the growing pile by the stables. He was grateful that he packed his portable speaker, having just come from a pool party before his untimely crash and teleportation.  
  
“Yeah,” He grunted. “Big guy comin’ through!”  
  
Without a thought, he rummaged around in a small cooler, retrieving a bottle of beer and cracking the lid off on a nearby work table. It was fortunate that he had brought his own beer, enjoying the pleasures of the Old World as he worked.  
  
With each grunt, another bale upon the pile, he paused, glancing at his body, glistening with sweat in the mirror at his side.  
  
“Damn, I make these jeans look good. Someone call me Farmer Brown.” He snapped his fingers, staring at his own reflection. “No homo, bro.”  
  
Meanwhile, the cow girls that were actively being milked in the same barn in which Rocket was working were whooping, hollering, and catcalling at the fit Army officer basically dancing for them.  
  
He turned around, pelvic thrusting as he grabbed a nearby pitch fork.  
  
“Got milk?” He joked, extending his arm and grinding in the air.  
  
The girls all started giggling and turning bright red as they were clearly enjoying the show.  
  
“You know, after I came into this world, I started drinking less milk.” He started, a grin on his face as he made a thrust into the bale with pitchfork, poking it a few more times before tossing it with the rest of the pile. “But now, I think I’ll have to change that.”  
  
It was at that point, a fair few of the girls chose to take that as an invitation and promptly disengaged from their self-service milking machines, lewd, excited smiles stretched across their faces ear-to-ear as they were all very clearly pushed beyond the breaking point.  
  
“B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-but not now I’m working!” He took a step back, raising his arms defensively. “I’M WORKING!”  
  
\---  
  
“Okay, they got carrots, chicken, and wheat… I’m having me some chicken noodle soup some time soon,” Joe declared as he pulled another ripe carrot from the ground. “This really isn’t as hard as I thought it’d be, y’know?”  
  
Nilas winced, a hand going to his back briefly as he rubbed the spot where it ached. It didn’t really help, but it didn’t hurt to try as usual. He kneeled back up straight, dropping another carrot into his basket. “Yeah, the work isn’t too hard yet. And it’s not even hot. I’m not good with all this bending over, though.”  
  
“Yeah, I think that’s the worse part.” Booker groaned as he stood up to stretch his back. “I think I’d prefer picking fruit from a tree or something, at least I can stand up right.”  
  
“I’M WORKING! I’M WORKIIIIIIIING!” Rocket shrieked as he ran past, still carrying his still [blaring speaker ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cdmhyEqCINM)in his toned, muscular arms.  
  
“MANDATED BREAAAK TIIIIIME~!” The herd of cowgirls moo’d lewdly as they stampeded after the shirtless, glistening American, their heavy hooves leaving a cloud of dust in their jiggly wake.  
  
“Huh… I don’t know either I should be jealous or concerned for his safety.” Booker remarked as he lazily watched his friend flee from the small herd of cow girls. “He better not drink from the tap though, then he’d be really fucked.”  
  
“Yeah.” Nilas agreed, watching the procession. “Though why do I have a feeling he started that and then ran like a girl when they followed through?”  
  
“Well he is shirtless and I think I heard music coming from the barn, so who knows.” Booker shrugged his shoulders. “I think the only thing that can save him now is Whitney.”  
  
“...I dunno man, I think he may have just fucked himself this time,” Joe sighed. “That boy been in the army too long.”  
  
“And you guys think I’m the one that’s going to get fucked badly here.” The blonde chuckled, standing up to stretch as they trio continued to work diligently.  
  
\---  
  
The trio continued to engage in their low-intensity farm work until Whitney eventually came to Rocket’s rescue, and dragged him over to work with everyone else where she could keep an eye on him along with everyone else.  
  
Eventually, the conversation drifted to the wasteland they’d popped up in to begin with.  
  
“Y’all arrived in the Scar?” She asked, tipping up her wide-brimmed straw hat and giving the group a wary gaze after giving a narrow-eyed glance at the few cowgirls that were still hanging around the carrot patch, openly leering at the guys, Rocket in particular and occasionally Nilas as well. “Now that’s a bad omen if ever I heard one…”  
  
“The Scar? Why’s it called that?” Booker inquired between sips of water.  
  
“Bad place hun. Cursed place,” the dog-morph stated as she shook her head. “Real bad stuff went down there, between the Covenant and Lethice herself a long time ago, back when the good guys still had a lick of power to ‘em. Their magics ruined the place, killed the earth itself there as I learned it.”  
  
She pulled a massive carrot from the ground, had to be as thick as a man’s forearm and casually tossed it in her basket without missing a beat.  
  
“Is it true that even the sky there’s twisted and wrong? Never been daft ‘nough to go near the place m’self.”  
  
“Yeah, it’s blood red.” Booker answered her question before asking another one of his own. “Who was the Covenant?” He was about to ask if they were from Tel-Adre but then realized it’d seem odd to know about the city.  
  
For his part, Joe was just quietly listening as he worked, and didn’t think anything of the looks the cowgirls were giving the four of them.  
  
“Magic organization, operated out of the capital of Mareth and were kind of the last line of defense against the corruption, until… well. There ain’t much of a governmental body these days, if you get my meaning,” the golden-furred woman stated in a rueful tone. “Mareth’s in a bad way these days, as y’all can probably imagine.”  
  
“I can imagine.” He replied as he finished his glass of water and got back to work. His shoulders and back immediately began aching again. “There was a capital of Mareth? What was it like?”  
  
Whitney just shrugged from beneath her hat. “Don’t rightly know, that was ‘fore my time. I just know that it was supposed to be a real crazy advanced place. Stuff that makes the running water taps I got in the house look downright primitive or so I hear. Goblins got up to some right crazy stuff ‘fore the demons got to him and turned ‘em into a buncha mindless little cock-hungry freakazoids.”  
  
“Huh, that’s pretty interesting. I don’t supposed people that go looking for it ever come back.” Booker remarked, his curiosity peaked by the topic.  
  
“Well, as I heard it, Mareth Castle Town is in the… what was the term now… the ‘Heart’ of the Scar, where the ‘Distortion’ is at its strongest, making like an invisible wall around the city that can’t be penetrated.”  
  
The woman said as she stood and turned around to start working on the next row of carrots.  
  
“You’re s’pposed to be able to see the castle and city from far enough away, like when yer up in the mountains and looking down at the Scar, but up close… well, y’all saw what it’s like in that place. Gets all screwy a couple hundred metres out and it’s like a twisted haze, right?”  
  
“Like reality itself is shifting around randomly…” Joe piped up, remembering just how unsettlingly eldritch it looked to gaze out into the distance of the wasteland. “You mentioned a ‘distortion,’ is that what it’s called?”  
  
“Yupperdoodles,” the dog-morph nodded. “That magic war messed the place up  _real_  bad. Affected the entirety of the continent. Used to be a time when a map was worth a damn, because people didn’t just…  _teleport_  around Mareth. Used to take  _weeks_  to get from here to Tel’Adre, and now? Well…”  
  
She shrugged.  
  
“Y’all came here from the Scar. According to my great-grandpappy's old maps, the Mareth castle town grasslands to be was a good four day’s walk from here.”  
  
“Tel’Adre? Is that an important city or something?” Booker asked, playing dumb.  
  
“Old desert fortress city,” she said. “My forebears did a lot of trade with the place in the past, when the farm was a lot bigger than it is now. Back when there were more… well, workers to go around,” she stated in a grim tone.  
  
“Huh, okay, sounds like a hot place.” Booker replied as he went back to work.  
  
“Yup,” Whitney nodded.  
  
Nilas only half listened to the conversation going on as he worked, his focus drawn elsewhere. He’d noticed the glances he had been receiving from some of the nearby cowgirls, and now he swore he could feel eyes on him nearly constantly. He couldn’t help from glancing nervously in their directions. Had Marble said something about him to them? The idea made him nervous. Who knows what she might have said after their awkward first run-in.  
  
Rocket took it all in, storing away the little parcels of information in his mind. Good intel, as any.  
  
He wiped his brow, glancing at the girls just beyond the fence. He sure as hell wasn’t stoking the flames anymore. Not that it seemed to matter. Those big’uns had clearly set their eyes on him, and only sparingly wandered over to Nilas, Booker, and Joe.  
  
Marble suddenly wandered in from nowhere, waving at the group as she approached. “Whitney! I need some help in the barn, there’s hay bales all over-” The large cowgirl spotted the group of men, her eyebrows and ears flicking up in surprise. “Oh! Well hello there, I haven’t met you all yet.”  
  
Her eyes locked with Nilas’ for a moment, and he spotted surprise and what might have been amusement before he glanced away awkwardly. Heck, for all he knew it was something else.  
  
“Anyway,” She continued, turning her attention back to Whitney; A hand on her hip. “There’s a big mess in the barn for some reason. Hay bales all over the place. I don’t know what the girls were up to, but I need some help getting it back in order.”  
  
The dog woman glanced from the cow girls, several of who seemed to be trying to make themselves scarce, to the guys with a searching look. Her gaze lingered on Rocket as she said, “Any of you fellas want to go help?”  
  
Before any of the others could reply though, Nilas took a breath and spoke up. “Uh, I’ll do it.” It was his chance to clear up any possible awkwardness with Marble after she’d walked in on him taking care of business.  
  
The look he got made him feel a little insulted, but Whitney shrugged. “Alright, get goin’ then.”  
  
Still not quite able to keep his eyes locked on the tall cow girl’s, Nilas stood and wandered in her direction; The two walking away from the group.  
  
As the shortest member of the group was led away, the other three were left to continue aiding Whitney in her tasks around the farm. Rocket, in particular, was expected to stay well within earshot.


	4. We're gonna need a Montage

The three amigos became the dynamic duo as Joe went off on his own once they finished picking the carrot patch. He said he was going to look for Kelt and see if he could get a bow from the centaur.  
  
Rocket and Booker were on break, each enjoying a glass of ice cold sweet tea and biscuits. Whitney had walked away to deal with some business, and evidently trusted them not to get into trouble in the brief time she was gone.  
  
“You think these’ll transform us into tea leaves?” Rocket asked, cracking a grin as he wagged the amber drink in his grasp, the ice tinkling in the glass. “Or maybe we’ll turn into loaves of bread if we nibble on these biscuits?”  
  
“Nah, I think we’re safe, transformatives usually look different than regular food.” Booker replied as he eyed up his own glass. “Plus the biscuits were baked, so that means they’re safe… Hopefully the butter is as well.”  
  
He continued staring at his drink and food, quietly debating either it actually was safe to eat or not.  
  
“Only one way to find out.” The Biker said, a sigh of finality coming from him as he took an experimental sip.  
  
He smacked his lips. “Tastes like ice tea.”  
  
Booker waited for a moment and as nothing suddenly sprouted from Rocket, he took a tentative sip of his own glass. “Hm…. it’s pretty good.”  
  
“Not bad at all.” Rocket added. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll ask Whitney to leave the pitcher when she comes around next.”  
  
He took a bite from his biscuit, crumbs falling from his mouth as he dusted off his hands. Leaping up on the ladder to the barn, he turned back pointing to the bucket of water at Booker’s feet.  
  
“Pass me that, will ya?”  
  
Booker took a bite of his biscuit before passing the bucket along. “Hey sure though.” He replied. “Man, these are pretty good. Could do with some cheese, maybe some gravy as well.”  
  
“Shut up.” Rocket chided, shaking his head. “You’re makin’ me miss fast food and all those other fat nasties.”  
  
Grabbing the sponge, the Biker dipped it into the bucket, beginning to wipe the outermost barn’s faded coat of pain. It had gotten rather unsightly over the years- given the numerous... _stains_  bestowed upon it by passing imps.  
  
“This shit is fuckin’ gross.”  
  
“Well if it makes you feel any better, they all probably got shot down by Kelt.” Booker remarked as he took a couple steps away from the barn. “And I know what you mean. I’m already missing a lot of food… mostly milk and cereal. It was just part of my routine, you know, and it just throws me off eating something else for breakfast.”  
  
The Biker tossed the crusty sponge back into the bucket, wiping his hand off on a pant leg, his lips curled into a grimace of disgust as he shook his head.  
  
“This has a tendency to kill the appetite though.”  
  
He looked at the Canadian.  
  
“Regardless, you up for a quick session of training? I just need you to do one thing for me.”  
  
Booker was hesitant to agree. “What did you have in mind?”  
  
Rocket grunted and leaned against the ladder. He pointed to the floor. “Do ten pushups.”  
  
“Uh…” Booker paused mid-bite. He was already feeling self-conscious and knew he couldn’t manage it. “Like, off the ground?” He asked, stalling for time.   
  
“Yeah, like off the ground.” Rocket said again. “Quit stalling. Move.”  
  
“Alright fine, time to embarrass myself.” Booker sighed, resigned to his fate. He put his drink and biscuit down on the little fold out table beside him, and got onto the ground. It took a moment for him to get into position, and he started…  
  
He did about one and a half, almost two before his feet slipped on the grass and he laid on the ground on his stomach. “Well, to the surprise of no one…” he trailed off as he pushed himself off the ground and stood back up.   
  
At the rather pitiful display of physical incompetency, the Biker sighed, shaking his head.  
  
“Well, I ain’t gonna rib you. The only way to get better at push-ups is to do push-ups. Go to your knees if you have to. Worst comes to worst, start running- get some of that weight off and you’ll find yourself having an easier time.”  
  
He turned to the biscuit Booker had been munching on.  
  
“As for these?” He tossed it into the bushes. “We’re going to put you on a protein diet. No carbs.”  
  
“Hey!” Booker exclaimed. “What the fuck man?! Do you think food is going to be growing on trees for us… food that’s safe to eat?” He amended his statement. “Where do you think we’re going to find enough protein to do that anyway? This is a dairy farm, not a slaughterhouse.”  
  
“Like you said, cooking the food cures it of any transformatives properties.” Rocket explained, shrugging his shoulders. “And I know a really good source of protein.”  
  
He leaned in.  
  
“Dairy.”  
  
Before Booker could open his mouth to speak, Rocket once again cut him off.  
  
“I’m talkin’ purified milk, cheese, cottage and all sorts of that good shit. Free of corruption and all the badness that entails.” He sprinkled his fingers over an imaginary space. “Maybe a nice blue crumble to dust over a leafy salad.”  
  
Booker paused and actually considered Rocket’s pointing, humming in thought. “That’s actually a good point. I do like cheese and dairy. Still though,” he glanced to the bush where the biscuit was thrown, “why’d you have to waste that? Carbs or not I kind of need some fo-  
  
“Shut up.” Rocket interrupted. “I will be watching  _everything_  you put in your mouth.”  
  
“You’re gonna watch me blow dick girls?” Booker sarcastically remarked, and then laughed at Rocket’s glare.  
  
“The sickest thing is that you’re not even joking.” The Biker sighed, taking a step back. “The moment I get my hand on some Vitali-Tea, your ass is gonna chug that shit.”  
  
“That was actually my plan,” Booker interjected with a shrug. “Get some of that to get the ball rolling and give me some muscle so that I can work out properly.”  
  
“Fuckin’ fantastic.” Rocket replied, clasping his hands together. “Now go to your knees and give me ten push-ups.”  
  
\---  
  
As he tested the string and draw on his new bow after fiddling around with the quiver on his hip, Joe overheard a certain dog morph complaining to herself about something on the other side of the shed.  
  
“God-forsaken little limp-dick imp bastards, that’s the third time in a month they stopped that trader from coming ‘round here, how in tarnation are we supposed to pay folks and maintain the place without a bloody income…?” The golden-furred woman griped.  
  
That caught the Canuck’s attention, and he stepped out around the shed to engage her. “What’s this about imps stopping traders?”  
  
She seemed surprised at his sudden appearance, her ears perking up along with her widening eyes from her seat on a tree stump before she rubbed her brow in exasperation. “And now I’ve done gone and let a little ol’ human sneak up on me. I really ain’t needin’ this kinda stress…”  
  
“Again, what was that about traders being accosted by imps?” Joe pressed, still holding his new recurve in hand.  
  
“It’s nothin’ all y’all need to worry yerselves about, just keep to-” Her gaze fell to the bow he was holding. “Now what’re you plannin’ to do with that?”  
  
“Kill demons,” Joe immediately shot back without missing a beat. “I don’t think Kelt’s gonna miss it, considering it was just sitting in the shed being neglected. It’s only a sixty-pounder too, so I imagine he’d get little use out of it.”  
  
Whitney gave him a very measured look, taking a few moments to eventually speak back up. “Yer’ playin’ a dangerous game, y’realise?” She began, eyes hard as steel. “Demons ain’t gonna go easy on you, and if you underestimate what ‘yer dealin’ with ‘yer gonna wind up a demon morph, spending the rest of y’alls days chained to a wall being used by imps and incubi and all sorts of horrors.”  
  
Joe didn’t budge an inch. “I’m not going to just sit around and do nothing while the corruption spreads, and besides, Rocket’s a trained soldier, going to start training us to bring us up to par right away.”  
  
The retriever woman’s eyes widened. “Y’serious? That chucklefuck is a trained soldier?” She tipped her hat with a surprised breath. “I’da never ‘ave guessed, he acts like such a buffoon…”  
  
“He’s dealing with all this shit in his own way,” Joe countered before reshifting back to the original topic. “So what’s this about imps attacking traders?”  
  
She sighed, her entire body slumping forward. “...Bloody hell, I can see y’all ain’t gonna back down from this… tell you what, soon as you fellas got a good hang on fightin’, then I’ll give you details and send you on the little quest, but only after. I ain’t gonna have y’all getting turned into sex slaves on my conscience.”  
  
She took off her straw sunhat and ran her hand through her head of bobbed golden hair.  
  
“Imps are nothing one-on-one. No stronger than a human child, but grouped up, all together in a lair… the ones smart enough to bunch up are, well, smarter than the rest. Don’t be underestimating them.”  
  
Joe nodded.  
  
“Okay, consider it a deal. Now don’t be buggin’ me anymore on this subject until y’all look like you’d at least stand a fightin’ chance against a goo girl, y’hear?”  
  
He nodded again. “Understood, ma’am.”  
  
“Alright, then get going, I’ve got stuff I’ve got to sort out,” the woman declared with a shooing motion as she leaned back on her stump, shutting her eyes and staring up at the sky.  
  
Seeing little reason to keep bothering her, Joe decided to seek out the others and fill them in on the new quest.  
  
\---  
  
“Alright, let’s go back to the lake and get my fuckin’ vape back.” Rocket demanded.  
  
“No, you fucking loon,” Joe replied from his place leaning against the side of the barn. “Those slimes are tougher than they look, and the vaper was smart enough to gather up cronies in preparation for another attack. One-on-one we’re taking too much of a risk unless we’ve all filled out a fair amount at least.”  
  
“Well, probably best to forget about ever getting it back.” Booker chimed in as he stretched his arms and back, still sore from the work earlier that day. “Besides, imps are more important. They’ve got actual loot on them.”  
  
“Don’t you ever make light of my situation.” Rocket snapped, whirling around on his heel. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to find tobacco alternatives in a place like this?”  
  
“Easily,” Joe retorted with an eye roll. “I told you, they have fucking recreational drugs dude. Whitney also grows  _potatoes_ , which are as much a New World crop as tobacco. Just ask, and she’ll probably make a note to ask traders to bring some in next time they come around.”  
  
“Yeah, we’re in fantasy land, no need to worry about if any sort of Columbian Exchange type shit happened or not,” Booker interjected. “Hell, they got some pretty modern conveniences too, so you could probably get a new vape in,” he paused for a moment, realizing it was probably a bad idea to say anything about Tel’Adre, “from some merchant.”  
  
“I hope so.” The Biker grumbled. “That shit is hard to get.”  
  
He remained silent for a few moments, before finally cocking his head to the side. “She called me a chucklefuck?”  
  
“You haven’t exactly given her a great first impression, given the whole ‘screaming at night when everyone else needs to be sleeping for work in the morning, and making the cowgirls go crazy’ thing,” Joe explained through lidded eyes.  
  
“Nah, they’ve always been crazy bitches.” Rocket waved off, turning over to Joe as he rolled his shoulders. “And it was a motivational speech. Not screaming.”  
  
“You caused a literal stampede of hysterical cowgirls that wouldn’t stop lewdly mooing for hours after Whitney chased them back into the barn,” Joe intoned. “And you shouted loud enough to wake up the farm hands in the neighbouring rooms.”  
  
“And Whitney in the farmhouse itself,” Booker remarked.  
  
“I can’t believe you people.” The Biker whispered, slinking over to the barn. “You all can shit on me, but I’m not gonna be around for it! I gotta sixpack I left in here-”  
  
He yanked the door-  
  
It didn’t budge.  
  
“Wait, what the fuck?” He rustled the handle a few more times, the wooden doors refusing to part even the slightest.  
  
“Oh man, I left all my stuff in there!” The Biker despaired.  
  
“...Wait, why is the barn locked now?” Joe asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.  
  
“Maybe it’s because of the literal stampede earlier today?” Booker suggested with a shrug.  
  
“No such thing!” Rocket replied, wagging his finger. “They trashed the place! I was merely working!”  
  
“...Suuure you were,” Joe drawled as he pushed himself off the side of the barn and fiddled with his bow. “Should probably get some practice in with this thing…”  
  
“I don’t know shit about bows, man.” Rocket elaborated. “More of a firearm kind of guy.”  
  
He flicked his gaze over to Booker.  
  
It was time for exercise.  
  
“TIME FOR A RUN! WOOOOWEEEE!” The Biker slapped his knee. “Let’s get it, boy!”  
  
Booker looked at him in confusion. “Uh, what? What are you expecting to happen?”  
  
With the force of a nuclear bomb, Rocket slapped Booker’s ass, shoving him forward. “RUUUUUUN!”  
  
“Hey!” Booker shouted in frustration and jumped away from Rocket. “The fuck man! There’s no need to slap me!”  
  
Rocket enthusiastically declared, “Calisthenics! Good job, Booker! But we’re working on cardio today!”  
  
Booker had half a mind to return the favour and slap Rocket, but knew to bide his time and started jogging away from the biker.  
  
Rocket immediately peeled off his jacket, beginning to jog beside Booker with his exposed, toned and muscular torso visible for all the world to see. “You want to look like this? Keep pace with me. As a matter of fact- take your shirt off Booker.”  
  
“Why the fuck are you wearing a jacket with nothing under it!?” Joe called after the pair, disgusted by the sheer white trashiness he just witnessed. “I know you’re from the American South, but come on!”  
  
“I don’t want to constantly have to do laundry, smart one.” The Biker shot back, turning around and starting to jog backwards. “C’mon, Booker. Keep up!”  
  
Booker didn’t respond, breathing hard and unable to waste precious air on a retort.  
  
\---  
  
[“Straighten your backs, you Winter Mexicans!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vK4gv11PTI8) Rocket deadpanned, looking at the two pushing Canucks before him.  
  
He still had his shirt off.  
  
“I don’t know… if that’s a racial slur or not.” Booker grunted between push-ups, struggling to hold himself up.  
  
Joe just kept pushing, gritting his teeth and focusing on keeping his breath even and steady.  
  
The cowgirls seemed to be enjoying the show.  
  
\---  
  
“...Five…” Joe strained as he struggled to pull all two-hundred pounds of his body mass up, eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.  
  
“Jesus….” Rocket started, looking at him.  
  
Booker grunted as he hung off the ground, barely able to hold himself in the air much less pull himself up.  
  
“Fucking…” Rocket trailed off, shaking his head in vehement disapproval.  
  
He leapt up on the nearby bar, effortlessly doing a pull-up.  
  
“Watch me,” Rocket said. “Up and down. Up and down. Up and down.”  
  
Dropping down, the Biker wiped his brow, grabbing a cold glass of iced tea from the nearby table. The chilled glass dripped icy droplets onto his chest, trickling down his pecs as he chugged.  
  
“Ahh~”  
  
The cowgirls  _really_  enjoyed the sight of that as they all moo’d quite longingly at the sight.  
  
“Christ…” Rocket sighed, shaking his head. He turned his head, eyes widening upon looking at the jiggly bovines before he quickly fumbled to put his shirt on.  
  
Joe, meanwhile, with sweat trickling down his forehead in heavy bullets… “... _S-s-six…_ ”  
  
\---  
  
“Having trouble breathing there, tubby?” Rocket chuckled, his knee on Booker’s throat. He leaned down, pinching his amigo’s cheeks. “You don’t punch with your wrist unless you want to break it.”  
  
“ _Fuck…_.. _you_.” Booker grunted before tapping out.  
  
Joe, meanwhile, having had experience with fighting beforehand was given rougher treatment and was thus still recovering on the ground after having been rather violently suplexed.  
  
He’d have said something, but he was pretty clearly stunned.  
  
Rocket helped the bespectacled Canuck to his feet, slapping him on the back before…  
  
Putting his pants back on.  
  
“What are you, a fucking bitch!?” Kelt called out from the sidelines, shaking his head in disapproval. “Shed more layers, don’t put them back on you limp-dick little shit!”  
  
“How do you know my dick is limp, Kelt?” Rocket called back. “You fuckin’ gay, bro?”  
  
“Oh shit, you mean it’s hard right now?” He asked while peering at his star-spangled-bearing crotch intensely. “Holy shit, I pity the poor bitches that had the misfortune of trying to get off on such a little human microdick!”  
  
Rocket nodded for a moment, before promptly grabbing the waistband on his jeans, yanking it down for all of Mareth to see.  
  
His eagle wasn’t even screeching, his soldier at  **PARADE REST**.  
  
The cowgirls that had been watching seemed to take that as an invitation, and started barrelling towards him at a full-tilt while hysterically and very lewdly mooing,  _again_.  
  
“OH FUCK!” Rocket roared, yanking up his trousers as he half-ran, half-hopped away.  
  
Kelt was laughing his ass off, doubled over at the sight of the American fleeing from the rampaging stampede as Joe and Booker recovered and scattered in random directions to escape the torrent of supple, overeager flesh.  
  
\---  
  
“Joe, how come I can already see your abs?” Rocket asked, holding the doors of the barn shut as a massive tide slammed behind it, a cacophony of needy moo’s blaring behind them. “Booker, pull your pants up.”  
  
Indeed, the bespectacled Canadian’s trousers fell around his ankles upon standing at attention. Quite the change from when they’d started working out earlier…  
  
“Well, time to tighten up the belt.” Booker remarked as adjusted his jeans and redid his belt. “Haven’t done that in a while… or ever, really.”  
  
“...I suppose this is all the confirmation we need that we’re operating on Mareth physics now,” Joe stated while giving his surprisingly hardened stomach an experimental poke. “Also, Jesus fuck Rocket, you weren’t  _that_  ripped when we started out, were you?”  
  
Rocket shrugged, rock-solid, highly toned body glistening with sweat. “Holy crap, I’m all muscle!”  
  
“Do you feel much stronger, though?” Joe asked while rolling his sore-as-shit shoulders. “Strength wasn’t actually tied to your visible muscles in the game.”  
  
“Yeah, if we think about it in gameplay terms today was like three or four strength, tops.” Booker remarked as he backed away from the barn door. “And obviously this isn’t a game.”  
  
“I think I’m doing a little better, but not to a significant degree,” Joe noted while cracking his knuckles. “It was really fucking easy to shape your body in the game at will, not so much to actually improve your stats, so while we look better, I doubt we’re actually functionally any better off than we were a few hours ago. Especially with only one sparring session which mostly consisted of Rocket throwing us both around.”  
  
Rocket could hold the door no longer.  
  
With one final grunt of effort, the doors burst open, causing him to go flying across the field, tumbling against the grass.  
  
“OH GOD,” Joe shouted as the cowgirls charged right at him and Booker, turning on his heel and running like a bitch. “WHY WERE WE JUST STANDING HERE THE WHOLE TIIIIIME!?”  
  
“I don’t know!” Booker shouted as he started running towards the house, hoping to cower behind Whitney. As he ran for safely he realized that they should probably include Nilas in future training sessions.


	5. Resolve

Joe wound up and planted a fist in Booker’s gut.  
  
Booker grunted in pain from the hit. “Fuck, it hurts, but not as bad as it did before.” He remarked, stepping back and rubbing his stomach. “Still hurts though.”  
  
“We’ve only been at this a half a week, and already we’ve noticeably toughened up…” The shorter Canuck began while rolling his shoulder after giving Booker an experimental smack to see if he’d become tougher as well. “Mareth physics are pure bullshit, man.”  
  
“I know man, it’s pure bullshit.” Booker parroted. “I fucking love it.”  
  
Rocket gave the two of them a big ol’ thumbs up. “Glad to hear it, man.”  
  
“Thank you papa,” Joe meme’d right back at Rocket as he cracked his knuckles and stretched. It was fine that their bearded companion wasn’t there with them physically, as he was there in their hearts and their memes.  
  
Once he was finished limbering up, Joe walked over to the shed to collect his mighty shield that definitely wasn’t just made from spare wooden planks he’d found lying around the farm, lifting it up and sliding his arm through the rope arm straps.  
  
“You sure that thing won’t give the moment anything hits it?” Booker asked as he eyed up his friend’s homemade shield.  
  
“We’re just going to be fighting  _imps._  They only have the strength of small children dude. I’m mostly gonna be using this to protect myself from their sharp little nails and to smash their faces in,” Joe asserted as he adjusted the straps as best he could, drawing his sword and dropping into a defensive pose to experiment with it again. “I don’t expect it to last long, just enough to minimize chances of being hurt in that imp lair.”  
  
“Alright, but let’s not get too confident though. They still have magic and potions, and only Nilas knows how strong those lust drafts are.” Booker pointed out, jabbing his finger at Joe.  
  
“We just have to avoid being idiots about the way we engage them,” Joe declared as he thrust his xiphos outward past his shield into thin air. “We’ll lure as many out as we can one at a time, I’ll loose arrows into the little fuckers, then we pick them off as we get close with me taking point, and Rocket stabbing the bastards from behind me with his spear,” he noted while nodded at Rocket, who was standing off to the side, holding the boar spear Whitney had allowed him to take.  
  
He sheathed his sword with a satisfying click, and sighed.  
  
“We’re gonna be in close quarters once we’re in the trading post proper, where this small shield and shortsword will be advantageous. We just gotta be smart about what our advantages are.”  
  
“And here I am with just a shovel.” Booker jerked his thumb to the gardening instrument on the ground. “Maybe we should just burn the place down… Wait, no, we want loot.” He shut down his own suggestion.  
  
“Firstly, I could put an edge on the head if you’d let me,” Joe retorted while giving the farming implement a glance. “Secondly… we don’t want to do that, because we don’t know if they have prisoners or not.”  
  
“Point.” Booker shrugged. “And sure, if it’s not too much work. I don’t really like cutting stuff, but if they bunch up on us I can’t really swing it around. But with an edge, I could at least use it like a hatchet, albeit awkwardly.”  
  
“Well, alright then, it’s gonna take me like… an entire day to put an edge on that thing, so I guess we’re pushing this off to tomorrow then,” the long-haired Canuck replied. “So… meet back here in the morning, I suppose.”  
  
\---  
  
Morning came, and everyone was gathered up at the front of the farm, geared up as best as they could be.  
  
“Okay, Nilas is gonna be the scout and if we screw up, the runner that’ll hightail it back here to beg for help, while us three actually do the proper fighting,” Joe reiterated the plan as he pointed at the rag-tag party. “We good to go? Anything else to add or whatnot?”  
  
Rocket shrugged. “[Let’s do this.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d7tNlPiROyw)”  
  
“Well, into the breach I guess.” Booker hesitantly remarked as he tightly gripped his shovel.  
  
Joe nodded, turning on his heel and marching down the hill to follow the old trail to the abandoned trading post. With luck, their first little quest wouldn’t end too poorly for them.  
  
\---  
  
“...Well, you heard the man,” Joe started, knocking an arrow on his bow as Nilas retreated to the bushes to remain hidden. “Two sentries out front, only bastards visible in front of the building. Any suggestions, Rocket?”  
  
The group was in a small clearing just off the trail near the imp’s lair. It was a ratty, rotten one-story circular building with one wide front entrance, and a smaller entrance in the back according to Nilas’ intel.  
  
Rocket peeked out from behind the tree he was behind, gesticulating wildly to Joe. Two fingers up, arm pushing low, pointing to the Canuck, then back to himself, before pumping his fist forward.  
  
Joe wordlessly stared for a moment at the American, trying to parse his hand signals. “...What?” he eventually piped up, clearly as confused as Booker was.  
  
Rocket sighed, shaking his head. Leaning in, he hissed.  
  
“Two sentries. You get down and form up on me. Push forward and wait for my signal.”  
  
“And what should I do?” Booker leaned in and quietly whispered, clutching his gardening tool closely.  
  
Rocket seemed bemused. “Do the same goddamn thing, Booker.”  
  
“Oh, okay, I thought you were talking only to Joe.” Booker sheepishly replied.  
  
As the three quietly crept up towards the entrance, the Biker hefted his spear, flipping the point towards one of the guards.  
  
“So you take a whack at the chick in the back lately?” One of the imp sentries asked the other one. “She’s a good fuck, but the line is insane.”  
  
“No, they keep saddlin’ me with extended fucking shifts! I haven’t had a chance to nut in the fucking whore in days! Fucking bullshit, I wanna rail that bitch and bite down on those giant titties so bad! UUUURRRGH!” The second imp declared as he started to openly, angrily and aggressively beat himself off on the spot.  
  
“Hah! Serves ya right, fucker!” The first imp laughed at his comrade’s misfortune. “Maybe you should try to be sneakier about cumming in the boss’s food. At least he didn’t force feed ya anything and strap you in the wall next to her.”  
  
Joe’s eyes widened and his expression went blank and cold, his breathing quickening though not increasing in volume. As if he needed another excuse to butcher the little wretches wholesale.  
  
Raising his recurve and preparing to draw the bodkin arrow back, he was prepared to engage in the slaughter on a moment’s notice.  
  
“Fire on my signal.” Rocket commanded, his eyes narrowing behind his visor. “We gotta put an end to these sick fucks.”   
  
Booker grimaced as his grip on the edged shovel tightened, waiting for the other two to begin the attack and the imps to rush out at them.  
  
The Biker dipped out from behind his hiding spot, taking aim and chucking the spear in his grasp with all the force he could muster.  
  
Joe, meanwhile, had smoothly drawn the bow and loosed his arrow in tandem with Rocket’s throw.  
  
The two missiles arced through the air, the spear finding its mark in the throat of one imp, the arrow punching clean through the other’s skull, causing its lifeless body to collapse into a heap on the ground.  
  
The speared bastard was still alive, but incapable of screaming with a wide-tipped spear embedded in its neck, blocking off its windpipe entirely.  
  
“Two down,” Joe whispered with a nod of affirmation, watching the two monstrosities twitching and jerking around in their death throes for a few moments before both fell still and silent, black, oil-like blood rapidly pooling around both tiny, cooling bodies. “Next step…”  
  
“Sneak up to the door and hit them as they come out?” Booker suggested as he grimaced at the violent sight.  
  
“Lure them out,” Joe stated as he retrieved his arrow and quickly dragged the body out of view, dumping it in the bushes. “One of you, do the best high-pitched impy voice you can declaring that you ‘caught one’ and we jump whoever comes running out.”  
  
He then set his bow and quiver down in a nondescript place, knowing he’d have little use of them for the rest of the engagement, instead readying his sword and shield as he pressed himself against the now unguarded front door, waiting for some of the fuckers to come out.  
  
Rocket waited, pulling his spear from the imp’s throat with a sickening squelch.  
  
“Just remember to watch the blood.” He wiped his glove on the frontmost trunk of a tree, a stygian streak smeared on the bark as he shook his hands free. “Something tells me you don’t want this stuff on your skin.”  
  
“Okay.” Booker replied as he cleared his throat. “Hey guys,” he called out in a high pitched squeaky voice, “I caught one!”  
  
“You did?! Fuck yeah boys is a rape party tonight!” An imp called from inside the worn out building. Within seconds three imps burst from the door and looked around in excitement. “Where’d you go ya chuckle fucks?! You chase them down the road or something?”  
  
The one talking paused when he noticed the blackened blood staining the ground outside the building. “What the fuck-”  
  
The imp was cut off by the business end of a blade swinging in from behind him, cleaving cleanly through his skull and splattering the other two with corrupted ichor and grey matter as their eyes widened in horror and shock, the body falling bonelessly into a heap on the ground.  
  
“Iago, no!” The shortest of the pair cried out as he clasped the sides of his face in despair. “My closest friend-”  
  
Rocket wordlessly appeared behind it, grabbing the top of the imp’s head, simultaneously seizing its chin with his other hand. With a quick twist, the neck crunched, the bone snapping as the cranium flopped uselessly about on the body.  
  
The Biker let go, the corpse falling to the ground. “Snap crackle pop.”  
  
Booker flinched and paused at the visceral display of violence, freezing for a moment.  
  
Which was enough for the third imp to realize what was going on. “Intruders! Fuckers killed Mercutio and Horatio!” It called out and turned to run back into the building. “Boss! Boss!”  
  
That snapped Booker out of his trance and he reflexively swung it down the shovel at the little demon. It was a wild swing, and only grazed the back of the imp’s shoulder. It cut open its back but didn’t stop it.  
  
“Gah! My back! Cock sucking human got my back!” The imp called out as it stumbled forward into the trading post’s dank interior hall.  
  
“God damn it, Booker!” Joe shouted in frustration as he stepped in front of the pair, shield readied in front of him. “Rocket, behind-”  
  
A small circular stone whipped out and impacted against the wall near Joe’s head with unexpected velocity, startling him back as he ducked behind his shield.  
  
An imp about a head taller than the others, rippling with muscle, came into view with a sling in its hand, an unassuming short sword strapped to its back. “Who the hell do you future cock sleeves think you are, attacking my boys and my hideout?! You want demon cock that badly or are you that fucking retarded?!” It yelled as it quickly reloaded the weapon and with nearly inhuman speed whipped it around its head, sending a rock smashing against Joe’s shield.  
  
“You think I’m scared of a couple of punk ass humans?!” It fired another round, smashing into Joe’s shield again. “My boys already beat some big shot adventurer last week, and you know where she is now? Taking demon cock like a good bitch!”  
  
More imps began pouring into the hallway, most unarmed but a few with clubs and vials of liquid on their belts.  
  
“Othello, Yorick, fly out back and piss on these fucker’s head!” The imp lord barked out orders, and the sounds of shutters could be heard within the building.  
  
Joe cursed, pressing into the hall a bit as he called back at the other two, ensuring his head was well-guarded by his crude shield. “Rocket, we’ll have the advantage with our stabbing weapons in here! And Booker, don’t let them fucking flank us!”  
  
Rocket nodded. “Alright, and provided Booker doesn’t falter-”  
  
A stone smashed into Rocket’s helmet, his head arching back slightly as fragments of rock pummeled against his jacket. He blinked back, the effect on hurting him minimally.  
  
“We should be good.”  
  
“Hurry the fuck-” Joe was cut off by an imp charging him, leaping on him and latching onto his shield, making a concerted effort to pull it down.  
  
With a snarl, he thrust his sword through the red-skinned little abomination’s gut, and the weight of the imp combined with the shield and sword along with the bastard screaming and clawing at his arm caused him to drop his guard rather than readying himself again properly.  
  
Consequently, he was quickly mobbed and tackled to the ground by a dozen or so imps overpowering him with sheer numbers, shouting and screaming in a rising panic as he was forced to drop his main weapons and draw a much smaller survival knife, which was itself quickly lost in a single other Imp’s side impotently, all before Rocket had the opportunity to ready himself behind Joe’s shield.  
  
Just as many more imps started barrelling down the hall at Rocket, pointed teeth gnashing and snarling and jeering deriding and demeaning insults at the Biker.  
  
From the back, Booker was forced to turn and fight the two imps trying to flank them. The moment they flew into the doorway a vial of pink liquid was thrown at him. It hit his chest, covering him with it as it quickly seeped into his clothing and coated his skin.  
  
He felt hot and agitated and knew what he’d been hit with.  
  
The bespectacled man thrust his shovel forward, trying to catch one of the demons. He was hesitant though, thrown off by his rising desire to drop everything and jerk off. The imp easily ducked out of the way and whipped its ridiculously huge red demon cock out.  
  
“Come on big boy, gobble this cock up! You don’t look like you watch what you eat anyway fatty!” It taunted him as the imp jerked itself off.  
  
“How about you go fuck yourself!” Booker shouted back as he swung the bladed edge at the offending imp. The demon barely dodged, ducking under the attack, as the weapon embedded itself into the wooden wall.  
  
The imps took the opportunity to rush him, clawed hands trying to tear his clothes off as he flailed and only barely missed them. They threw another vial at him, causing him to pause, and more imps jumped over Joe and Rocket, onto the taller Canuck’s back, dogpiling him.  
  
They were surrounded, cut off from escape.  
  
Having had seen the image of Joe getting fucked in the ass flash in his mind for a moment, Rocket reached for his waist, drawing out his pistol before hefting it forward.  
  
“Alright,” He started, seizing an imp by the throat and pressing the barrel of the gun into its temple. “Plan B!”  
  
Imp brain matter splattered against the Biker’s visor, black viscera streaking down as Rocket continued to fire. The muzzle of his Glock roared, the stench of cordite in the air intermingling with the growing miasma of blood.  
  
And so he just kept pulling the trigger- until everything stopped moving.  
  
Everything had grown still and silent after the explosion of violence, Joe on the ground, coated head-to-toe in inky black blood and scratches courtesy of the grasping, clawed hands of the little demons as he rapidly scrambled back and was left sitting on the ground next to Rocket gasping for breath, eyes wide at just how very quickly things had gone south and he’d nearly been fucked, both figuratively and literally.  
  
A few heavy moments passed, before Joe eventually croaked out a statement, his eyes still locked-forward on the bullet-ridden corpse of the Imp Lord that had been slinging rocks at him a few moments earlier.  
  
“We probably should have planned that out better,” he stated as he wiped blood from his face.  
  
“I thought you were going to wait for them to come out!” Booker yelled at his friend, coughing and gagging from the stench of death and demon pre. “Why didn’t you back out either?!”  
  
“Why the fuck didn’t you do your fucking part and kill that imp before it started screaming and alerted everyone to our presence!?” Joe immediately and heatedly shot back. “The plan to just wait for more to file out to investigate was fucked the moment they knew we were here and killing them!”  
  
“Well fucking excuse me for hesitating when I see a fucking head get cleaved into fucking two!” Booker retorted in anger. “The only thing I’ve fucking killed before is bugs and spiders!”  
  
“To be fair the man only had a shovel.” Rocket said, dropping his empty magazine and tucking it back into the holster on his waist. “Plus, I don’t think we expected that many imps to come out. I almost got swarmed myself.”  
  
Reloading, the Biker slammed in another fresh mag, racking the slide before pointing ahead. “The mission is done, at any rate.”  
  
Joe pushed himself to his feet, starting to feel the sting of the many scratches and cuts he’d received from the imps as the adrenaline started to wear off. “Okay, right, fuck this blame game shit, we all screwed up right out of the gate by not having a clear plan anyways, and ultimately nobody seemed to have gotten seriously injured, so whatever…”  
  
He touched a hand to his now horribly tense shoulders.  
  
“Yeah, fuck, whatever.” Booker sighed as he stood up and yanked his improved axe shovel from the wall. “I guess we should loot these bastards and find that chick they mentioned.” He looked down at the imp that had insulted him made it a point to give the body a swift kick to the side.  
  
“Was about to say,” Joe replied as he kicked a few imp bodies aside and wretched his sword and shield free from the body it was still stuck in. “I’ll go looking ahead, you guys check the bastards for stuff to sell if you want. Probably best if we do not overwhelm the girl anyways,” he declared as he started down the hall, making a point to disrespectfully step on the bodies littering the floor.  
  
He was grateful that he’d gotten used to the smell of recent death from dressing game already, else the scent of wretched blood would be unbearable. While Rocket and Booker did their grisly deed in silence.  
  
\---  
  
Pressing deeper into the building, Joe could hear absolutely nothing but old, poorly maintained wood creaking and groaning with each step on the overgrown floorboards. Even Booker and Rocket didn’t seem to be talking to each other, which was entirely understandable considering what they’d just been through.  
  
He shook his head, pushing thoughts of what almost happened out of his mind and focusing on the task at hand. There was a girl there, being kept as a sex slave. Lord only knew what those little monsters had done to her, and she needed to be found as quickly as possible.  
  
He noticed things like old tapestries and trade goods littering the halls that looked as though they could have almost been welcoming once in the past, before imps had claimed the place and spread their graffiti and filth everywhere.  
  
Eventually, after checking much of the rooms and finding little other than little nesting areas for the wretched beasts, he came across a door that was crudely barred shut from the outside.  
  
It didn’t take a genius to figure out this had to be where they were keeping her.  
  
Grabbing the rusty iron bar inserted through the double doors, Joe cast it aside and swung open the door- to be greeted by the horrid stench of what he could only describe as fermenting semen and filth. It was dark inside, so dark that he could barely see. He had to actually wait a minute for his eyes to adjust to the darkness within so he could begin to make out what the hell was in there.  
  
As he waited, he could begin to make out a soft, stuttering breathing.  
  
Taking a few steps in, moving towards what he could just make out as a table, Joe’s heart caught in his chest as his eyes finally adjusted to the dark, and he saw her. She was leashed to the table, tightly by thick, heavy ropes, surrounded by buckets of filth and…  
  
The only real detail he could make out was that she was human, and had long loose hair.  
  
Using his sword, he cut the ropes, freeing her.  
  
Her breathing remained steady, but she didn’t react to his presence at all, just laying there motionless despite having her bonds cut.  
  
Joe almost hesitated when he moved to pick her up and carry her out of the room, into the light, where he’d be able to see what exactly they’d done to her. But she’d almost certainly need medical treatment and...  
  
Shaking his head, he mentally slapped himself for trying to stall, lifted her up in a bridal carry, and moved for the overgrown, dusty hallway well-lit by holes in the ceiling.  
  
Stepping into the light, he could only then make out her appearance.  
  
She had dusky skin and black hair, large green eyes were staring ahead blankly, and her body was… inhumanly shapely, a very large chest and wide hips with a…  _unsettlingly_  narrow waist. She was covered in bruises, lesions and poorly healed-over cuts, especially around her crotch, breasts, and face.  
  
Not to mention that she was almost  _coated_  head-to-toe in dried and flaking…  
  
He wanted to puke.  
  
A week they’d had her, been doing…  _this_  to her.  
  
Rocket’s skill with a pistol hadn’t changed at all since they’d arrived. They should have come here half a week earlier.  
  
Shaking his head, Joe stopped, taking a knee and resting her against his leg like a backrest as he removed his backpack to find his first aid kit, she needed-  
  
She made a sound, a dry, croaky sound. It shocked Joe as he gazed down at the girl, who, despite her eyes having been half-open the entire time, only now seemed to be… coming to.  
  
Realizing the state she was in, Joe quickly wretched his jacked off and put it over her as she seemed to start stirring.  
  
“H-hey,” Joe started, his voice catching in his throat unexpectedly. “A-are you… are you okay, miss?” He asked in as soft and comforting a tone as he could manage, gently resting his hands on her shoulders.  
  
Her head slowly began to move, her eyes began to focus, and her breath audibly catching in her throat, though she didn’t respond.  
  
“I-it’s o-okay…” Joe continued, trying to keep his voice level as equal parts fury and horror threatened to overwhelm him. “Miss?”  
  
A few moments passed, and she seemed to snap back into reality, her eyes becoming focused as she stared straight ahead down the hall, and eventually, snapped aside to him.  
  
“You’re safe-” He began, continuing to try to reassure her, only to be cut off by an ear-piercing scream as she suddenly, weakly scrambled away from him, causing his jacket to fall aside on the ground as she backed into the wall opposite him, pressing up against it, shaking her head as tears filled her rapidly panicked eyes and she sputtered in a hoarse, hysterical voice.  
  
He was shocked, not expecting her to react to him with such complete…  _terror_.  
  
“It’s okay!” He asserted gently, holding his hands up in a placating manner. “Miss, it’s okay, you’re safe-”  
  
She continued to cry, shaking her head and staring at him like he was a monster, eventually trying to rise to her feet but keeling over as she clearly didn’t have anywhere near enough strength to stand, let alone walk under her own power.  
  
As she tried to feebly drag herself away from him, Joe finally noticed something out of place on a human being. A long, fleshy spaded tail protruding from the base of her spine, dragging uselessly behind her as she repeated in a horribly hoarse voice: “No more, please, please, please Marae, mama, papa, save me…”  
  
She couldn’t even manage to drag herself a few inches before she’d seemed to have expended all of her strength, lying helplessly on the ground, continuing to plead for mercy and rescue, crying pitifully with her an arm stretched out in front of her, as if reaching out to an unseen saviour.  
  
They’d completely broken her.  
  
Joe was silent, staring helplessly at the girl that couldn’t have been more than in her early twenties, if even that… so tormented, after a mere week, that she looked at him, a pure human, and could only see a monster aiming to further brutalize her form, twisted by Succubus milk to better serve as the plaything to a gang of imps.  
  
Picking his jacket back up and laying it over her, eliciting even further cries of pitiful, strained crying as even that little contact seemed to be too much for her, Joe felt his heart shattering, and his fury and hatred growing a thousandfold.  
  
This was Mareth. Comparatively, this girl… she was one of the lucky ones, to have been only captured by imps, only forced to undergo a metamorphosis as small as minor Succubization. It got worse. Right at that very moment,  _so much worse_  was happening all over this land.  
  
Demons were the dominant life form here.  
  
This girl was only one among tens of thousands across an entire continent, suffering even worse forced transformations at the hands of Demons. Men and women in equal measure, warped and shaped for the sick, hedonistic,  _sadistic_  pleasure of the Corrupted hordes.  
  
Joe had never felt so useless in his life, being able to do nothing but feebly attempt to shield what little modesty the poor girl had left as she, though great visible effort curled up into a weeping, defenceless ball.  
  
Not being able to speak to her, comfort her as she was so traumatized as to have such a horrified reaction to a rescuer attempting to help her…  
  
Rocket, Booker, Nilas, and surprisingly, Marble bearing a massive warhammer came barrelling around the corner, stopping at the end of the hall once they caught sight of Joe and the Adventurer. Marble’s eyes widened at the sight of her, hardening somewhat after a few moments. Booker looked away from the sight, gagging and retching from the smell alone. Nilas’ eyes widened in horror and shock at the sight as he visibly recoiled and was stunned into silence.  
  
Rocket’s hand simply clenched into a tight, shaking fist. His expression unreadable beneath his black tinted visor.  
  
Joe looked back at them and simply nodded once.  
  
All of Demonkind, every single corrupted abomination, without exception,  _would_ die.  
  
He turned back to the still sobbing wreck of a girl pitifully curled up on the ground before him.  
  
Mareth  _would_ be free.


	6. Two Sad Bois

Booker listlessly walked around the farm without much of a destination in mind. The near failure in the fight against the imps and the condition of the prisoner they’d freed had left him feeling disturbed. There had been so many of them, and he couldn’t even deal with fucking two of them.

He felt utterly useless.

The woman they’d freed was being taken care of by Whitney, or someone else maybe. He didn’t want to be around her, it bothered him too much.

He’d passed by the garden out front, the cow girls in the barn, even saw Kelt and then promptly turned in the other direction. He was left wandering the outskirts near the wooden palisade, when he noticed Nilas in the distance leaning against the structure.

The Canadian slowly made his way over to his blonde Australian friend. “Hey Nilas.” He took a hand out of his pocket and weakly waved at the Aussie.

Nilas, who had been staring out into the distance, glanced aside at the greeting. He lifted a hand from his side, cocking it in what seemed to be a return wave. In his other hand, however, he held something round. He idly tossed it into the air, giving Booker a proper look at it; Revealing it to be a small fruit of some sort. “Hey.”

“What’s that you go there?” Booker inquired, tucking his hand back into his pocket and gesturing to the fruit with his elbow.

The blonde caught the fruit and lifted it closer to his face, rolling it between his fingers as he stared. “Pretty sure it’s one of the transforming fruits.” He said after a moment, tone mostly flat with just a touch of curiosity. “At least, I think it’s one I remember from the game.”

Booker squinted as he peered down at the fruit. It was like a peach, but with two small rows of nubby protrusions, like cartoon cat whiskers, sprouting out of its sides. “Yeah, I think that’s the cat one.” He tonelessly observed. “Where’d you find it?”

Nilas gestured out into the distance, shifting slightly where he leaned against the wooden wall. “Was out for a walk, came across a weird tree with them growing on it.” He snorted in faint amusement. “It had leafy cat ears growing from the top of it. Made me do a double take.”

“Huh,” he paused as he imagined what that would look like, “I can imagine. Any reason you grabbed a fruit?” He asked, already suspecting the answer.

The smaller man was silent again for a while, weighing the fruit in his hand. He glanced at his friend again, expression flat save for his furrowed brow. He sighed lightly and then frowned, facing forward. “From what I remember it’s one of the easiest and least risky ones you can find around here. Pretty sure canine pepper did things I’m not really up for dealing with right now…”

Booker frowned slightly as his eyes narrowed. “I’d be careful with that. It might give some stat buffs, but they’re minor compared to the physical and eventual mental changes.” He pulled a hand out and jabbed a finger towards the fruit. “The first one’s free, but after that it starts changing you. Hell, there’s probably no set order. You could end up with ears or a tail, instead of claws and fangs.” He pointed out.

“Yeah.” Was Nilas’ quiet reply, laced with something unidentifiable. A heat that was there and gone in a moment. “Still, I reckon that’s something I could live with. At least there’s a good chance I’ll be more useful with whatever comes from it.”

He brought the fruit up to his face suddenly, practically brushing his lips. He held it there for a moment, not moving, then lowered it just slightly. “Smells good, at least.”

“Just don’t eat it without thinking about it first.” Booker remarked, eyes slightly widened. “We barely survived that fight, but we did and we’re going to get paid. Then we’re going to buy some motherfucking strength potions and cheat our way to get stronger.” His gaze fell onto the peach-like fruit. “I’d hold off on eating any transformatives for the time being. It’s not exactly something that could easily be undone.”

“You guys barely survived the fight,” the Australian chuckled humourlessly, “I didn’t do shit but creep around and then run off. I almost fucking passed out going to get Marble.” He hunched over, shoving the hand holding the fruit into his pocket and tapping his foot lightly on the ground. “What do you think would have happened to me if I had been there trying to fight with you guys? I’m like half your size, if not even smaller. They would have dragged me down in an instant.”

Again he glanced at Booker, and this time there was emotion on his face. Fear, anger, revulsion. “You saw what they did. That girl- fuck!” He shook his head then leaned it back against the wood. “I can’t get it out of my head. It’s just… there. And I couldn’t do shit to help.” He sighed again. “Do you really think finding potions like that would be that easy? In the game, sure. But… if it was as simple as that… why aren’t there more strong people around to fight back?”

“I don’t know, man.” The Canadian shrugged, glancing away and looking off at the lake. “There could be a fucking plethora of reasons. Besides, you did more to help than I did. I hit like one imp, and didn’t even kill the bastard. I don’t know if those guys were high on speed or just that agile, but I couldn’t fucking hit them to save my life.”

Nilas just grunted in reply, foot still tapping. A silence fell between the two as he just kept staring out into the distance, hands buried in his pockets.

Booker glanced at his friend as silence reigned. “Look man,” he finally said, “we’ve got to just keep training and….” He trailed off and sighed. “Fuck, almost feels like we should just forget about it and let someone else deal with this shit.” He admitted.

“Mm, yeah.” His friend replied with a sigh. “It wouldn’t take much for us to fuck up. And then that would be it.”

He glanced at Booker again. “So, what’s brought you out here anyway? Something going on at the farm?”

“Nah,” the Canadian shook his head, “I just wanted to clear my head I guess, when I saw you feeling sorry for yourself. So I decided to come over so that we could feel sorry for ourselves.” He chuckled a bit at his own dumb joke before his expression turned sober. “I just… didn’t want to be around that chick, you know? It’s a fucked up situation.”

“No shit.” Nilas replied, his tone a bit more sarcastic than was necessary. He snorted again, giving the taller man a smirk. “There’s a lot more of the farm then just Whitney’s place, though. I’m surprised you’re not at the barn trying to get one of the cows to seduce you.”

Booker snorted as well and shook his head. “Honestly the thought crossed my mind, but it seemed like it’d be a bit tasteless to do that now. Though you can fucking bet I’m gonna try my luck in a day or two.”

The blonde let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Why am I not surprised.”

Then with a sigh, he pushed off the wooden palisade and stood properly. “Fuck it, this is getting boring just standing out here. I’m gunna head back in.”

“Yeah, not much to do out here other than be depressed.” Booker remarked as he surveyed the grassy lake shore in the distance. “At least at the farm we be inside and depressed at the same time.”

“Yup.” Nilas replied, ending the word with an exaggerated popping sound.

The two of them turned to walk down the length of the palisade, back towards the entrance of the farm.

\---

Back inside the farm, the atmosphere was surprisingly normal. There was nothing that seemed to have changed, even with the events that had taken place earlier. Nilas supposed that made sense. Despite what they had seen, it wasn’t uncommon for this world. And regardless, life had to go on. People were still working, the farm the same as it had been the previous day. It felt wrong almost, but what else could they do.

He glanced at Booker and asked, “So, now what?”

Booker turned to his short, blonde friend and shrugged. “No idea. Train I guess?”

“Ah ok. You going to go find the others then?” The blonde replied as they kept moving.

“I don’t know. We could exercise together.” Booker offered. “Rocket’s a bit of an ass anyway, and I don’t want to leave you out, you know.”

Nilas shrugged slightly. “We could do that, sure. Though, I don’t really know what to do myself. I’ve just been following Marble’s lead.”

As if summoned by her name, said cowgirl rounded the side of the barn in the distance. She seemed to be looking for something, or someone, and when her head turned towards the two she began to move in their direction. Carried by her long, powerful legs it didn’t take her long to clear the distance. Stopping in front of the men, Marble greeted them. “Well hey you two. Sorry if I’m interrupting, I was just looking for Nilas.” She looked at the blonde. “I just wanted to talk to you about your training. I think it might be a good idea to start doing it more often, what with earlier.”

Nilas nodded, lips turned down slightly. “Yeah… That’s probably a good idea.”

The horned woman then glanced over at Booker with a contemplative expression. “How about you? I know I saw you going about with those other two doing stuff, but I’d be hesitant to trust their skills. No offense meant, of course. But, well, Nilas came to get me for a reason.”

Booker tried to keep his gaze from wandering to the cow girl’s generous bust. “No offense taken, not like I have any idea what I’m doing. I’d love to join you two, if you’re offering?” He replied.

Marble nodded as she crossed her arms under her chest. “Yeah, I am. I think Whitney and myself would feel a lot better knowing you fellas knew how to defend yourselves properly if you mean to keep going out adventuring.”

“Yeah.” The Australian said, face twisted up in a sour expression, “I’d like to know I could defend myself properly as well.”

“Same.” Booker nodded in agreement, his eyes betraying him and wandering over Marble’s form.

The cowgirl smiled, her ears twitching briefly. Her eyes met Booker’s, her eyebrows shifting upwards slightly as she made it obvious she could tell he was looking. “Well, let’s focus on that right now then, alright? Follow me you two.”

Marble turned and began to walk back towards the barn, her long strides moving her quickly away. And also having the side-effect of making her ass roll quite obviously with each step. Nilas had to almost jog to keep up, his eyes locked on the holstaurus’ rear like a magnet.

Booker managed to keep pace with his friend without too much difficulty, owing to his own long legs. Which made it easier for his gaze to become fixated on Marble’s swaying posterior. He vowed he’d definitely be stopping by the cowgirls in the barn later that night…

\---

Marble led them around the side of the barn, where one of the side doors was open to reveal the large stacks of hay bales against a wall. Resting against the outside wall, a wooden cart stood. Obviously old but in good repair. The cowgirl looked the two men over. “Alright you two, let’s get started. Start loading up the cart with hay. The animals need feeding, and it’ll get you two working hard and help you build some muscle.”

Nilas gave the woman a look, which she returned with a playful and teasing smirk. There was obviously something there, though neither said anything. With a sigh he glanced at Booker and said “Guess we should get started.”

“Yep, time to earn our keep I guess.” The Canadian remarked.

The two walked towards the formidable stack of hay with Marble looking on.

\---

The day was exhausting for the two men. And while Marble didn’t work them till they collapsed, she made sure they were at least close to it by the time the day ended. They had done a circuit around the farm, doing whatever work the cowgirl felt would help strengthen them and get them started on a level of fitness that could help them. Hauling bales of hay to the cows, moving big metal containers of milk, chopping wood. By the end of it muscles they hadn’t used in years were screaming from the strain.

Booker was privately disappointed that all they were doing was more physical training. That’s what he was doing with Joe and Rocket already. He was just mixing up the exercise, and nothing else.

Still, he’d collapsed onto the ground, sitting against the wall of the barn in the shade. He was breathing hard and gulping down a glass of water he’d managed to procure earlier.

Nilas was thankful for each time they were allowed to rest, though it never felt like enough. Everything ached, and he knew he’d be feeling it even worse tomorrow. Marble was definitely serious about making sure they were actually able to fight, or run, without just collapsing from exhaustion almost immediately. The few times he had exercised with her previous were nothing compared to this. She had been going easy on him for sure.

Dusting her hands off, Marble turned towards the exhausted friends and gave them a small nod. “Alright, you boys did awful today, but it’s a start. Take a rest tomorrow, but if you want to keep doing it come find me the day after. You might want to both wash off, too. Take care, I’ve got to take care of some final work.”

Hefting a sack of grain over her shoulder with almost contemptuous ease the cowgirl took off, having barely broken a significant sweat the entire day.

“Fuck man…” Nilas groaned once she had left, “I think today just shows how unready we are for this.”

“Yeah, we’re out of fucking shape.” Booker agreed as he watched Marble walk away, her tail swaying as she went. “This feels like it’s going to be a steep fucking hill to climb.”

“Yeah.” Was all the blonde could say, both knowing full well what anything otherwise meant.

They sat there, recovering from a gruelling day of farmyard chores and exercise, enjoying the cool evening air as the sun began to set.


	7. Two Dudes Not Trying Hard Enough: the Musical

“Alright, so we’re gonna see about finding that rowboat while Booker and Nilas are training with Marble, and when we do we’re gonna go find that Goddess in the middle of the lake, right?” Joe asked the biker as the pair departed from the farm towards the lake.  
  
After what happened with those imps, the Canuck was going out of his way to keep himself occupied and his mind off of the horror they'd borne witness to, be it with training or with odd jobs, or in this case, progressing the main quest. Nilas and Booker were busy pulling a wagon around at the cowgirl’s command, so he rounded up Rocket and decided to set off on doing something productive of their own.  
  
They’d told Whitney they’d be exploring the lake just in case they didn’t come back but what were the chances of that happening?  
  
Rocket nodded.  
  
“While Marble keeps whipping twiggy and lardass into shape, we’ll be discovering locations that we’ll need to go to in the future.”  
  
He paused, stretching until an audible pop came from his back.  
  
“First thing is first, you got enough arrows for your bow?”  
  
“As many as I can fit in my quiver without overstuffing it,” Joe affirmed as he ran a hand over the knocks of the many arrows dangling off his hip opposite his sword. “We should be able to handle anything short of another imp horde, so we ought to be fine with just scouting today.”  
  
The Biker grunted. “You lead on. I feel more confident in covering our six.”  
  
Joe nodded, and took point as they proceeded down to the picturesque beach, making a point to keep an eye on the waterline in case any more slimes decided to jump them…  
  
\---  
  
“Where the fuck is that fucking rowboat,” Joe grumbled a good three hours later as they continued to wander the shoreline aimlessly, just hoping they’d stumble upon the damned boat like they did the sword, but no dice.  
  
They were accomplishing nothing but walking around on sand for extended periods of time.  
  
“And FUCK OFF VAPEY, YOU BITCH!” The Canuck started angrily, shouting out at the goo girl that had materialised on the top of the lake a good ten or so metres out,  _taunting_  them with Rocket’s vape as she seemed to be giving off a perpetual white smoke.  
  
Evidently, Rocket was the father of a new breed of goo. The Vape Slime.  
  
“Agh, you whore.” Rocket grumbled, crossing his arms before raising his voice. “Why do you come on over here and give that back? I’m sure you’ve probably sucked all the vape from it and clogged it up with slime. You’re supposed to exhale you know!”  
  
The newly named Vapey the slime bristled with some unknown emotion, dipping below the water and out of sight.  
  
The Biker sighed, turning and shaking his head. “Typical. I’m never gonna get that thin-”  
  
Just then, a bubbling noise came from behind the two, a cloudy mix of white and blue forming just off the water’s edge.  
  
“OH SHIT!” Rocket shrieked. “She actually came! GO GO GO!”  
  
“AH FUCK, WHY DID YOU INVITE HER OVER!” Joe screamed in a very masculine manner as he turned towards the treeline and started sprinting like a bitch. “OH GOD RUN RUN RUN!”  
  
There came an additional surfacing of two more unwelcome additions wearing a ponytail and a bob cut.  
  
“SHE BROUGHT FRIENDS TOO! RETREAT!” Rocket kicked his feet into overdrive, using his honed stamina to abandon his comrade.  
  
“WHAT HAVE YOU CREATED, ROCKET!?” Joe demanded as his feet pounded against the grassy earth leading to the woods. “YOU’VE CREATED A VAPE SLIME MAFIA! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?”  
  
“I brought them into this world,” Rocket started, unholstering his gun. “I can take them out of it!”  
  
“Don’t waste your shots you boob! Just keep running!” Joe cried as he bolted past Rocket, disappearing into the treeline.  
  
Rocket begrudgingly holstered his .45 and charged after the goddamned Winter Mexican into the forest, leaving a trio of very put-off and disappointed Vape slimes crossing their arms and huffing in frustration, again.  
  
The pair didn’t stop charging once they were in the woods, and kept going, sprinting in a blind panic as they were certain they were still be pursued, so desperate were they that they didn’t notice when ran into and knocked over a short, robed figure, nor when they stepped on a tentacle monster and left it a squealing, confused mess as they charged. Small cuts and scrapes were finding purchase on Joe’s face and hands, so desperate to escape was he.  
  
Rocket was wearing a helmet and gloves and was therefore unmarred.  
  
Eventually, the pair came to a stop, Joe catching himself on a tree and wheezing desperately as he propped himself and gathered his wits. “Fuck… fuck! Holy fuck, being so weak fucking sucks, we need to get better fast man…”  
  
Then as he got his bearings, Joe realised how…  _off_  the environment felt. How unsettlingly dark it was despite being the middle of the day, how the hairs on the back of his neck were suddenly standing on end.  
  
He then realised where they were.  
  
 **Deepwoods Discovered.**  
  
“...Aw fuck,” Joe began as he knocked his head against the tree. “We ran into the fucking deepwoods man…”  
  
Rocket looked around, his fists clenched as he processed his surroundings.  
  
“Holy shit. Dude, this place has like, a bunch of things in it that can totally wreck our shit right now. We need to leave.”  
  
All around the duo was a wall of trees, as equally thick and wide as four men. They trailed up towards the skyline, the canopy blocking out all light and bathing the area in a dim, viridian hue. Bioluminescent fungi, pulsing with light, dotted the surroundings, casting on the two an eerie, almost unearthly gloom.  
  
“Uh, which way is the exit?” Rocket wondered aloud.  
  
“I think we may be fucked,” Joe declared as he turned around and realised that they’d left no visible trail behind them as they ran into the woods. “Okay, fuck, I think… we should be able to just think about being back at the farm and we’ll pop back up there after a short walk?”  
  
“I don’t think that’s going to work.” Rocket noted. “This ain’t exactly the Wizard of Oz.”  
  
“No, but it’s Mareth, and that’s how it works literally everywhere else…” Joe shrugged. “Well, uh, only one way to find out, I guess.”  
  
At that, he picked a direction and started walking, hoping they’d teleport back to the farm without incident.  
  
\---  
  
They didn’t teleport to the farm without incident.  
  
They had come across a corrupted grove, though.  
  
“...This is fucking weird man,” Joe declared while looking over a flower that looked like a sopping wet vagina.  
  
“Fuck nature.” Rocket snorted, his chuckling interrupted as Joe punched him in the visor.  
  
Then, bleating could be heard on the other side of a few thick trees, and a repeated stomping on the ground.  
  
The pair shared a look, and weaving their way through the flora that bore uncomfortable resemblances to giant tiddies, enormous cocks, and butts, all dripping with very smelly liquids out of their respective ‘holes,’ they found a satyr, balls-deep in a vagoo flower, bleating and kicking his leg as he thrust into it with a grimace on his face.  
  
It looked like he was stuck.  
  
The satyr caught sight of them, and grinned lecherously. “Aha! Two fresh new boi pussies for me to ream tonight! Just you laddies wait, as soon as I get free from this damned cock trap I’mma have some fun with you two!”  
  
Joe looked at Rocket. Rocket looked at Joe.  
  
The satyr’s loincloth and travel bags were a few feet out of his reach.  
  
They grabbed the bags, and proceeded to leave the creepy grove with their new loot in tow.  
  
“OY! OY! YA FUCKING WEE LITTLE PICKPOCKETS! I’MMA TEAR ‘YER ARSES OPEN DRY FOR THAT WHEN I GET LOOSE OF THIS, FUCKING, THING!”  
  
The bleating and kicking intensified as the goat-man tried to pull himself free, but the flower just would not release him. Joe and Rocket, meanwhile, were counting their newly acquired gems and other goods as the sounds of struggle faded behind them.  
  
“A flagon of beer, a knife, some herbs, and some jerky…” Joe noted while sifting through the sack. “Guess we can give the knife to Nilas or Booker… I don’t trust the jerky or beer though.”  
  
“Never trust anything consumable in this world.” Rocket nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. “But you can always trust…”  
  
He flipped open the pouch, letting the gems fall into his hands. “Moneeeeeeeeeeeeeeey~”  
  
“Money money,” Joe singsonged. “ _Money!_ ”  
  
Of course, as good as their new acquirements were, they were still lost in the deepwoods.  
  
“...But seriously, we’re kind of fucked. How the hell are we going to get out of here-?” The Canuck began right before a shrill scream broke through the dense foliage, and a blonde girl came sprinting out towards them, looking for all the world like she was being pursued by the most terrifying of hellbeasts.  
  
“H-h-help me! P-please!” She pitifully pleaded as she ran behind the dynamic duo, placing them between her and her pursuer.  
  
Rocket pressed her against his chest, heroically unholstering his gun and pointing it towards the rustling in the clearing. “Don’t worry, baby, I got this-”  
  
“Hey fuck babe! Get your sweet ass over here so I can rape it in!” An imp shrieked as it flew through the bushes. “I hope your hairs strong because I’m gonna treat your head rough as I fuck your mouth pussy!”  
  
The imp stopped mid-flight, and gave the two a surprised look as Rocket continued to heroically hold the woman, and Joe’s mouth hung open in shock.  
  
An imp?  _One_  imp? That’s what she was so scared of?  
  
“Oh-oh Marae save me! P-please brave heroes, s-stop that foul hellbeast, else it will ruin me for marriage!” She cried out melodramatically.  
  
Joe looked between the woman and the imp, and shrugged. “...Yeah, okay, whatever. Rocket, don’t waste your bullets, I’ll take care of this,” he declared as he drew his sword in an almost annoyed fashion.  
  
The red demon hovered in the air, looking pissed off at the appearance of the two men. “What are you two fuckers doing? I saw her first, so that bitch is mine and I’m not sharing with some limp dick humans!”  
  
The imp seemed ready to go on a rant, but was cut off by a steel blade embedding itself in its skull with easy.  
  
“...Man, imps are really easy to kill,” Joe noted, then coughed. “When they’re alone, I mean…”  
  
“Oh, my brave heroes!” The woman proclaimed, still quite melodramatically as she leapt up and wrapped her arms around Rocket’s shoulders. “You saved me! I must reward you somehow. Please, come with me back to my home, it isn’t far from here!”  
  
Rocket suddenly realized that he had acted in the heat of the moment, the high of having visual contact on a hostile enemy soon leaving his mind.  
  
Blinking he looked towards the dead imp, then at the woman in his arms-  
  
Then at the deepwoods.  
  
He turned his head over so slightly towards Joe, shooting the snow Mexican a knowing look behind his visor.  
  
At that moment, Joe realised just what the situation looked like, and how…  _suspicious_  it was, and decided it would be best for them to get the fuck out of dodge away from the strange random woman that claimed to live in the deepwoods yet was so weak that a single imp was too much for her to handle.  
  
“Ah, I apologize ma’am, but we’re on… important hero duty!” He lamely asserted. “Yes, I’m afraid that we cannot accompany you-”  
  
The girl turned to face him, her eyes  _aglow_   _with raw magical power._  “But sir. I  _insist_ ,” She pressed, giving him an intense stare. She then turned her focus back to Rocket, gazing into his matte black visor with her brightly glowing eyes. “Surely, you can both spare some time to allow little ol’ me to show my  _appreciation,_  yes?”  
  
“...You’re a Kitsune, aren’t you?” Rocket finally said after looking into her eyes after some time.  
  
She giggled in response, her human ears seeming to disappear into her long, golden locks as a pair of large fluffy ears appeared on the top of her head. The normal imperfections on her face seemed to fade as well, as she took on a rather… ethereal beauty.  
  
“My sisters will be positively fretting to meet such a handsome pair of young men,” she asserted as six vulpine tails seemed to materialize out of thin air on her lower back, and her plain commoner clothes warped into a finely decorated kimono. “Again, I must  _insist_  that you two accompany to my home so that we may show our appreciation for saving me oh-so-valiantly.  _All. Night. Long._ ”  
  
She declared in a rather mockingly condescending manner.  
  
“ _Come_ ,” she commanded as her arms slipped from around Rocket’s shoulders and took a hold of his free hand, pulling him towards Joe, who looked about ready to piss his pants and on the verge of abandoning his companion to his fate.  
  
Rocket could do nothing but lightly tap his pistol in response.  
  
“Hypocritical bitch,” Joe stated in reply as the gorgeous blonde took a hold of his own free hand and started guiding them both further into the deepwoods, her hips swaying mesmerizingly with each confident step as her six golden tails teasingly brushed against the pair’s jawlines.  
  
“We are going to have so much fun boys,  _I promise_ ,” she girlishly giggled again.  
  
“Very fucked,” Joe declared while giving Rocket a sidelong grimace.  
  
“ _Very,_ ” the girl impishly repeated as they left the rapidly cooling imp corpse behind them.  
  
Neither were sure how they were going to get out of this one. Kitsunes were  _well_  above their weight class at the moment. Even Rocket’s pistol might not be enough for three girls that can create illusions for him to waste his rounds on…  
  
Although Rocket was pretty sure he knew the answer, he still couldn’t help but ask.  
  
“Alright, before this shit goes down, is there anyway we could just go? Like, do y’all  _really_  need to bang that bad? I got a wicked hangover still from last night.”  
  
“Oh don’t you worry your handsome little head about that,” The girl said while glancing back at Rocket with a fiendish grin. “We have plenty of liquor to take the edge off of that before we…  _service_  you.”  
  
A beat.  
  
“I could be really ugly underneath this helmet. You don’t know that.”  
  
“You don’t look so ugly to me,” she declared as she held his helmet tucked under her arm.  
  
“What the-!?” The Biker sputtered, reaching out in order snag his precious headpiece back. “Gimmie that back!”  
  
“Ah, so forward!” She cheerfully declared as Rocket grasped two scoops of her bountiful chest, his helmet still quite secure on his head.  
  
“AN ILLUSION!?” He exclaimed, turning around making a motion to run. “I’M OUTCLASSED! I GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!”  
  
And so he bolted.  
  
….Straight into a tree.  
  
“HUMG!?” He choked, taking a step back from the massive trunk. “Oh god, there’s no escape!”  
  
The kitsune was laughing quite haughtily into the back of her free hand, like a typical anime noblewoman. “Oh, we are going to have  _so much fun_  with you two,” she declared as she turned to face Joe. “I just know it…”  
  
He gulped. Joe has been silent the entire time, doing his best to think of a way to escape, but finding himself coming up woefully short.  
  
Rocket, meanwhile, came to a conclusion.  
  
Fuck it. Violence seemed to be the only thing people understood. The Soldier took a step back, swinging at the foxy lady with intent to smack a thot.  
  
...Only for his fist to collide straight into Joe’s jaw with an audible thwack.  
  
“ARRGH!” Joe cried out in surprise and pain at the sudden attack from his companion. “WHAT THE FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!” He cried out with a furious snarl.  
  
The kitsune’s haughty laughter intensified. “So aggressive! So bold! Fufu… I suppose that means  _you_  get to be the one that Ruby gets to  _play with_  tonight…” She declared with a sadistic grin.  
  
“NOO!” Rocket screeched. “Please don’t fuck my ass!”  
  
“Oh, Ruby’s going to have  _so much fun_  with you…” She sneered. “Now, be a good boy like your friend and fall in line, else me and my sisters might decide to be particularly  _rough_  with you in particular…”  
  
She held her free hand back out, clearly expecting him to take it.  
  
With no other option, Rocket assumed the standard prisoner of war pose, walking forward with his hands behind his head.  
  
“Defiant to the bitter end, hmm?” She hummed playfully at him. “Very well, I suppose it matters not so long as you do as you are told and come to the mansion…” She continued to walk forth, pulling Joe along as he rubbed at his now extremely sore jaw, a defeated look in his eye.  
  
Rocket took her hand, struggling not to take his pistol with the other to commit sudoku.  
  
“ _Good boy,_ ” she cooed as she continued to sashay her way down a forest path that wasn’t there before, leading the pair to… doom?  
  
Joe was unsure how this night was going to go for them. At that point, it seemed like they only had one hope.  
  
Booker and Nilas.  
  
A beat passed, and Joe breathed: “We’re doomed.”  
  
The Biker merely squeezed the Kitsune’s hand all the tighter, aiming to hurt her that way. “Take that!”  
  
She seemed more amused by the act than anything, giving him a particularly impish grin as they quietly and calmly proceeded to the heart of the deepwoods.


	8. The Boys are Back in Town

“Ah, here we are, my humble abode,” the golden-haired kitsune declared as she pulled the duo into a large clearing featuring a  _massive_  and  _pimpin’_  Japanese-style mansion in the middle of a European fantasy forest. “We’re going to have a lot of fun you two, I assure you…”  
  
Joe was sweating bullets. He couldn’t remember how rapey the kitsune were in the game proper, and was struggling to find a way out of the situation that didn’t rely upon Booker and Nilas rescuing them. “L-look miss, why don’t we-”  
  
And at that very moment, a bright glowing portal opened up in front of them, and a bearded man bearing spectacles came tumbling out with a cry of surprise.  
  
“GAH FUCK NOT AGAIN!” he yelped in a most manly manner before he face-planted into the ground.  
  
Joe blinked. The kitsune blinked. Rocket lifted his visor up, then put it back down, so that no rape happy monster could decide they liked his purty mouth.  
  
After a moment of stunned silence, Joe recognized the newcomer and spoke up in a voice halfway between tired and relieved. “Oh, hey Trevor. Was wondering when you’d get here.”  
  
“Ugh…” Trevor groaned, wiping his face and blinking blearily up at the three. “Oh. Uh. Wow, Joe and Rocket? Didn’t expect to see you guys during… Uh…” He trailed off upon noticing the kitsune’s more… otherworldly features. “Oh. That’s new.”  
  
“...Ah, a friend of yours?” The kitsune asked while sparing a glance at either dude on her sides, still holding their hands.  
  
“I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” Rocket said, letting go of her hand. “RUN, TREVOR!”  
  
Rocket spun in place, charging towards the treeline, only to sprint headlong into another tree that wasn’t there moments ago. Again.  
  
“What the fuck?” Trevor wondered, pushing himself up and dusting off his pants. “Context, please?”  
  
As Rocket lifted himself off the ground with a groan, the kitsune cheerfully replied. “Well, you see mister Trevor, I was just leading your friends here to my domicile to reward them most handsomely for valiantly rescuing me from a terrible forest monster-”  
  
“It was a bright red midget,” Joe cut in rather dryly.  
  
“-And you popped up just as we reached the front door…” She noted as she pointed to the mansion behind him with a tail.  
  
Trevor blinked dumbly at everything happening around him, then let out a long, tired sigh. “I should’ve known asking would only make it more confusing,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “Look, uh, I’m happy for you two… or three, I guess, but I’m just all sorts of lost right now, so if I could get some kind of exposition dump that’d be great.”  
  
“Oh, you three can speak at length inside while my sisters and I gather  _refreshments_  for everyone, okay?” the kitsune declared as she started pulling Rocket and Joe along again, making a note to take a hold of Trevor’s wrist with one of her tails and start pulling him along as well. “We’re going to have a  _great_  night, I assure you three lucky boys~”  
  
Joe grimaced, not knowing what else to do at that moment now that poor Trevor was trapped with them on top of everything else. He sure hoped that the situation wouldn’t cause Trevor’s PTSD to act up again…  
  
Actually, Trevor was just confused as fuck and wondering why the hell the kitsune was talking like a cheap call girl at a strip club.  
  
“They’re gonna get us drunk and suck our pee pees.” Rocket explained. “If you take this gun and shoot me, I won’t have to suffer.”  
  
“For having such a dignified bearing you sure do enjoy speaking like a child, don’t you my big, strong saviour?” The kitsune asked as they came to a stop in front of the main door.  
  
The Biker could only shrug.  
  
But an instant passed before the door swung open inwards, revealing a pair of other kitsune, all fair-skinned, but with raven hair and a redhead.  
  
“Ah, Amber, I see you’ve brought guests…” the redhead noted cheerfully as she leered at the three men almost hungrily, playing with the waist wrapping of her well-fitted kimono.  
  
“Not just guests, but skilled adventurers at that…” the ravenette stated as she looked over Joe’s sword and Rocket’s helmet.  
  
Rocket groaned for what seemed like the fifth time in the past hour. “Don’t patronize me.”  
  
“Please don’t piss them off,” Joe pleaded to Rocket. “Or actually, no, do. Take some of the heat off of me.”  
  
Trevor elected to stay quiet, lest he say something stupid considering he still had  _no_ idea what was even happening.  
  
“Oh, I think we’re well past that point now, you Canuck fuck.” Rocket shot back. “We’re gonna get fucked. And we’re gonna have to watch each other while we do it too. Consequences will never be the same.”  
  
It was at that point Trevor realized he probably should not keep his silence.  
  
“I’d like to not get fucked if possible, please,” he spoke up. “Today’s been a weird one.”  
  
Rocket took the bespeckled lad’s shoulders, pressing the tip of his visor against his forehead and stately lowly and firmly. “THAT’S TOO BAD.”  
  
Trevor then motioned to look at the approaching kitsune, only to have Rocket pull his gaze back to him.  
  
“Don’t look at her. She isn’t the one you have to worry about. Look into my eyes. Rape is temporary. But saving Mareth is forever.”   
  
“First off,  _what about rape?!_ ” Trevor hollered, stepping back and raising his hands. “And what the  _fuck_ is a Mareth?!”  
  
“A place that is the setting found in a text based furry porn game based on transformation and all sort of horrors. Welcome to this new universe, lad. It only gets worse.” But the Biker said it quietly, so quiet, that even a fox could not hear him. He was that good.  
  
Except he wasn’t, given the look he received from all three of the girls, who then shared a queer look between them before shrugging and addressing Trevor.  
  
“Are you sure?” Amber the blonde asked. “A night of drinking and fun really isn’t something you’re up to?”  
  
“We wouldn’t force ourselves on you boys. We aren’t demons! We’re completely pure!” The black-haired foxgirl asserted, looking a bit hurt.  
  
Rocket called bullshit on that in his brain.  
  
“Yeah, nobody has to do anything they don’t want to… but why would you say no to a little fun? We’d really appreciate it, pure men are so rare these days...” The redhead asserted.  
  
Trevor frowned, continuing to be very confused at how earnest they were being and the overall situation.  
  
Joe, for his part, was taken aback by the situation. He… wasn’t expecting getting out of this situation to be so easy. They were actually genuinely nice… and pretty. Really pretty. Sure the redhead had a dick, but they did say they wouldn’t  _force_  them to do anything…  
  
He was visibly having second thoughts about leaving.  
  
Rocket was silent for the longest time, glancing towards the trio. Then at the numerous bottles of various liquors and assorted shots.  
  
Damn, they were guilt-tripping him.  
  
“Okay, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it my way. That means if I pass out here, spend the night- I don’t want to wake up with my lower body being an assorted mass of tentacle dicks. Furthermore, I want you all to know I need to be drunk for this. Otherwise I’m gonna have to bow out.”  
  
“Oh,  _that_  won’t be an issue  _at all_ ,” Amber declared, holding up a rather  _large_  jug of what was apparently alcohol. “You can drink as much as you like, to your absolute heart’s content.  
  
“...Do we really have to not give you tentacles?” The black-haired one asked pleadingly.  
  
Joe, meanwhile,  _was_  feeling pretty guilt-tripped himself, and the girls hadn’t actually been… mean or anything, in retrospect. Just… oh fucking hell, Amber had been playing tricks on them!  
  
“You tricky little vixen,” he declared while giving Amber the stink eye. “You’ve been toying with us since you set eyes on us!”  
  
She fluttered her eyelashes at him and gave him puppy-dog eyes. “Well, it’s not like either of you actually said no or anything…”  
  
He grimaced at her for a moment before shrugging and turning to Trevor. “Y’know what, fuck it, they ain’t furries, and they’re asking nicely. I’m game. How about you?”  
  
“... Fucking hell,” Trevor groaned, palming his face. “Sure, fine. But I swear to god if I make eye contact with either of you two,” he jabbed a finger at Joe and Rocket both, “Then it’ll be  _super_ awkward.”  
  
“Let’s get this over with before I start having second thoughts.” The Biker sighed. “Damn kitsune and their habit of making me feel bad after them clearly being in the wrong in the first place. Women am I right? Ha ha ha, pass me the alcohol already.”  
  
He snatched the jug from the tray, uncorking the lid and starting to chug….  
  
“...How are you drinking that?” Joe asked with raised eyebrows, given that Rocket hadn’t removed his helmet yet.  
  
Rocket was silent for a time, staring at the Canuck as if he had ask the most basic question in the world.  
  
“....With my mouth?”  
  
\---  
  
“Bye boys!” Opal the black-haired one called out at the three as they left the following morning. “Enjoy your presents as much as we enjoyed ours!”  
  
“And next time, try to be a little more open to experimentation!” Ruby the redhead cried out, frustrated that they made her shapeshift her dick away before anyone would be willing to do anything with her.  
  
“Come back anytime, sweeties!” Amber the blonde waved them off cheerfully from the balcony overlooking the front yard. “Our doors are open to you any time! Especially if you ever change your minds about tentacles!”  
  
“Did you guys find my smokes?” Rocket asked his amigos, patting himself down. “I tried to have a cig while getting my dick sucked but I couldn’t find ‘em.”  
  
Fading into the treeline with his fellows, Joe kept a tight grip on the map they’d been provided directing them back out of the Deepwoods safely. “Yeah, right here-” He started, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pinecone. “...Oh, nevermind, damned girls playing tricks on us,” he finished as he dropped the worthless item with a shrug.  
  
“I’m still kinda in shock that I just heard actual kitsunes actually say what they just did,” Trevor stated, suppressing a yawn. “Also that I got laid minutes after landing here. So far this Mareth place doesn’t seem so bad, relatively.”  
  
“It seems you forgot the conversation we had before the girls were ready,” Joe noted as he unfurled the map and looked over it. “Namely about the whole demonic rape apocalypse thing.”  
  
“Priorities were admittedly skewed once things got rolling,” Trevor replied, running a hand through his hair. “But I’m sure it’ll hit eventually. It’ll be nice to see Booker and Nilas, I guess.”  
  
“The inside of my helmet smells like a mixture of sake, cigarette smoke, and femcum.” Rocket noted aloud, mostly to himself. “I’m pretty sure I have a couple stains on my jeans too from when Opal impaled herself on my rod. Bitch was soaked. I should’ve went to seaworld. Got the same result. You know what I mean, with the killer whales. Right? No? Just me? Am I the only one that-”  
  
“Rocket, stop jabbering to yourself, we all got stains in places we weren’t expecting,” the Canuck noted while glancing over his shoulder at the back of his jacket. “Jesus, those girls were  _ravenous._  And eager to swap partners…”  
  
The Biker sniffled. “My gift is detailed instructions on how to get back. I wanted a pinecone.”  
  
“My gift was a piece of paper,” Trevor drawled, dangling the thing for them to see. “So yeah. Why do I feel like we were paid for services rendered?”  
  
“Welcome to Mareth, son,” Joe declared with a sigh. “You’ll get used to it. Maybe.”  
  
“Thank you papa.”  
  
And so, the three amigos proceeded back towards the farm after spending their first night in the merciless wilderness, their walk of shame being a long and boring one.  
  
\---  
  
“Well, here we are,” Joe declared, rolling the map up and tucking it into his jacket as they stood on the hill overlooking their apparent new home. “Whitney’s farm. Don’t tease the cowgirls, because they  _will_  stampede after you in an attempt to make you put your money where your mouth is. As Rocket has learned the hard way.  _Repeatedly._ ”  
  
“More like the  _herd_  way, am I right ladies?” Trevor responded.  
  
Rocket was already throwing open the barn doors, further away from the other two.  
  
“I’m home, my milky babies!”  
  
Happy moos all around.  
  
Joe blinked. “...Wow, that was fast,” he noted, given that the barn was on the other side of the farm and they were on the hill overlooking the damned place. “...Well, anyways, yeah. This is where we’re staying, for now. Nilas and Booker should be around here somewhere. Should probably get you introduced to Whitney as well.”  
  
Trevor shrugged. “Lead the way, man,” he said, gesturing for Joe to move onward.  
  
“I JUST HAD SEX. GIVE ME A LITTLE BIT YOU HORNY BITCHES!” A sprinting Rocket was off in the distance, running away from like, a lot of bovines.  
  
“...Literally haven’t been here more than five minutes…” Joe sighed. “Okay, whatever, come on, let’s see if we can’t find the other guys,” he declared while heading down the hill, leading Trevor towards the gate.  
  
\---  
  
“Oy, Booker!” Joe called out as he stepped around a corner.  
  
The taller Canadian appeared, lazily stepping out from the still open barn doors, sporting a giddy smile. “Oh hey Joe.” He waved at his friend and leaned against the door frame. “How’s it going? You guys kind of disappeared and we were getting a bit worried.” He noticed the bearded man standing beside Joe. “Hey Trevor, wondered when the universe was gonna fuck with you too. Glad to see ya.”  
  
“Glad to see you too, dude. And it’s been fucking with me a lot, but, eh,” Trevor said with a shrug. “... You seem to be enjoying yourself.”  
  
“Yeah, you could say that.” Booker glanced over his shoulder as a cowgirl strolled out of the barn behind him, before turning back to the two dudes. “Guess I wasn’t the only one having a fun night.”  
  
Trevor nodded. “Helluva way to spend your first night on a new world. Didn’t expect to ever meet kitsunes, of all things.”  
  
“Oh shit, you met the kitsunes, and they didn’t turn you into tentacle beasts? How the fuck did you manage that?” Booker asked as he looked his friends over.  
  
“We told them not to,” Joe explained dryly. “They don’t actually do things unless they can say you never told them not to, so we said no tentacles, and no herms, and thus we weren’t given tentacle dicks, and Ruby shapeshifted her enormous dick away, though with a pout.”  
  
“No futa cock, what are you, fucking gay?” Booker sarcastically asked, smirking.  
  
Joe rolled his eyes and withdrew his map. “They gave us pretty detailed instructions on how to get back if you and Nilas ever wanna visit them and get deep-dicked like the degenerates you are. Just be sure to lay down some ground rules and it’ll be fine. Also, those girls are fucking wild beasts. Ready thyself for a fight.”  
  
He took off his jacket and flipped it around to look at the stain stretched out across the back.  
  
“Seriously Amber, on my back? Yeesh…”  
  
“How the fuck did that happen?” Booker inquired, tilting his head.  
  
“Yeah, you can explain that while I go introduce myself to the lady who actually runs this place,” Trevor said, excusing himself and walking off to Whitney’s house. “See y’all in a bit.”  
  
“Later man,” Joe replied with a wave as his bearded compatriot wandered off. “...Dude’s lucky that he popped up when he did. There are far,  _far_  worse ways to be introduced to Mareth than spending a night with the kitsune sisters.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s in the Deep Woods isn’t it? That’s a pretty dangerous place to appear.” Booker soberly remarked.  
  
“Yup. He also has no idea what Corruption of Champions is, so… yeah,” Joe began as he threw his jacket back on with a grimace. “He’d have been about seven different kinds of fucked had he not been lucky enough to literally portal in right where we were walking.”  
  
“Yeah, best not to dwell on that.” Booker frowned, pushing himself off the wall and standing up straight. “Playing what if isn’t a fun game, and all you win is anxiety.”  
  
Joe nodded. “Yeah… anyways, guess we’ll need to get him trained up too shortly here. That might wind up taking a lot of his time, but eh. We’ll see, we should have traders coming around soon now that those damned imps are dead, right?”  
  
“Yeah, I think some might be showing up today or within the week,” Booker replied as he glanced out over to the palisade around the property. “So hopefully we’ll be able to buy some stuff, maybe pawn off some items. Shame we have such a limited budget though, even with the bounty and loot from the imps.”  
  
“We aren’t that poorly off, dude,” Joe countered through lidded eyes. “Besides, vitality tinctures just speed up the process of an already absurd process. We’ll be fine with or without them,” he asserted as he adjusted his belt. “Now… I have a serious question.”  
  
“Yeah?” Booker turned back to his friend, serious expression on his face.  
  
“The adventurer,” Joe began grimly. “Liana, her name was? How’s she doing?”  
  
“Uh, I think she’s doing about as well as one can expect given the circumstances. You’d have to ask Whitney for more details though.” The bespectacled man replied.  
  
Joe grimaced, then shrugged. “Alright, guess I’ll just look into it myself later… what’s Nilas been up to, then?”  
  
“Well he and I were training with Marble yesterday, but I spent the night in the barn, so I don’t know what he did. He was eyeing up a whisker fruit though, he felt transformatives might be necessary for him to contribute.” Booker informed the other Canadian, frowning slightly. “He thinks that even if he trained and exercised he wouldn’t be much help in combat.”  
  
After a moment, Joe groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damn it man, I expected him to be the first to go for transformatives, but not for such a depressing reason… I mean, fuck, it’s not like I was much use in that imp lair either,” he declared before letting his hand drop again. “This isn’t like our world. Physical limitations are ludicrously high compared to Earth. If we all keep at it, we’ll eventually all be as strong as fucking Kratos is in time, right? Shortcuts aren’t necessary in this place.”  
  
“Well from his point of view, Rocket’s got military training, and you and I have size. Meanwhile he thinks even if he works out he’s still going to be a string bean.” Booker shrugged. “That’s what he said, and felt that if taking those teas or tonics actually worked then why wasn’t everyone doing it.”  
  
Joe furrowed his brow. “...How does he know people  _aren’t?_  This is Corruption of Champions. It’s entirely possible to be a tiny, skinny little imp in the game but have a maxed-out strength stat. Mareth physics are  _bullshit._ ”  
  
“I meant heroes. He thinks if a bunch of exercise and strength boosters was all that was necessary to turn into a fucking demi-god, then why hasn’t anyone else done it? I didn’t really respond with an answer because he was being a bit fatalistic at the moment.” Booker helplessly shrugged and leaned back against the barn’s doorframe. “He just doesn’t think it’s going to be that easy… and that he won’t be able to help either.”  
  
Joe sighed. “Well, for starters, demons are hardcore fuckers. A maxed-out Champion  _can_  still be overwhelmed under the right circumstances, and being super strong doesn’t mean much when there’s no skill to back that strength up, which we can solve by way of help from Rocket, and Jojo, and Helia and who the hell else down the line.”  
  
He ran a hand through his hair and took a breath.  
  
“This is a role-playing game logic world. We aren’t seeing many others doing thing because… well, that isn’t how RPG’s work, now it is? It’s the  _heroes_  that save the day. Clearly, Mareth just hasn’t had the resident heroes show up to fix everything yet… unless it has, through us,” he finished with a motion between him and Booker.  
  
“Dude, I get where Alec’s coming from and it bugs me. This world’s physics is fucking weird, but do you really think everyone just meekly sat on their ass waiting for some outsider to show up and rescue them?” Booker rhetorically asked. “What if there’s already been groups of soldiers or paladins or whatever that maxed out fucking everything, and fought the demons. What would make us different from the residents of this realm? Besides the obvious.”  
  
“...Well, for starters,” Joe began, shifting his weight before continuing. “We’re here now. Those that fell before us are not. What would make us different, is that we  _may_  be the Chosen Ones. The Beautiful Sword still hasn’t been drawn from the tree, and that thing isn’t exactly hard to come by… but we’ve yet to meet Marae either, so for all we know, we just have to meet her and be blessed.”  
  
Joe was listing off his reasons calmly, coolly.  
  
“I am, at minimum, not willing to just stand aside and let ‘someone else’ handle this until we at least speak to Marae. Not when, given the circumstances,  _we_  could be those intended someones… I mean, fuck man,” he declared while throwing his arms out wide. “It was us,  _us_  that wound up here! It’d be one thing if it were just one of us, a bunch of assholes that didn’t know each other, but us five? We who knew each other beforehand all winding up in the same place,  _just so happening_  to be portaled in within arm’s reach of each other?”  
  
He allowed his arms to drop again.  
  
“That doesn’t seem a bit  _odd_  to you? Almost as if  _we_  as a group were specifically chosen for this?”  
  
Booker frowned slightly as he mulled over what his friend had said, and responded several moments later. “I don’t believe in Fate, never have probably never will, but I do acknowledge the circumstances. Look man,” he sighed and shook his head, “I’m somewhat optimistic about our chances, because what the fuck else am I gonna be, you know. It just feels a bit… arrogant I guess to claim that we’re going to succeed where all others failed, cause we might have been chosen by someone or not.”  
  
He brought a hand to his chin. “I think it can be done, and it might be us… I hope it's us since I’m rather fond of living. I’m just thinking… well, that the road ahead ain’t going to be pleasant.” He dropped his hand and began smirking. “But if we make it, like training actually produces results, then we rip and fucking tear across Mareth till every last demon and soul-sucking cunt is dead.”  
  
“You’re damned right,” Joe nodded approvingly. “And I never said that I believe we’re assured to succeed… just that based on the circumstances, I’m not willing to run the risk of not doing anything making the situation worse. I can’t just sit back while… things like what happened to Liana, that and  _even worse_  are happening all over this land. I  _won’t._ ”  
  
“Yeah, I feel ya man. I don’t want to wait around expecting someone else to show up and deal with this shit.” Booker’s gaze turned towards the lake in the distance. “For all we know Marae could already be corrupted and we’re all fucked, or she’s barely holding out, or maybe she’s recovering because someone else dealt with that factory. But you know what?”  
  
He turned back towards Joe. “I don’t want to stand around and see which one it is when we can do something about it. I just…. I just fucking hate feeling so damn weak.”  
  
Joe shrugged sympathetically. “Why do you think the first thing I did was go out scouting with Rocket? I was the first to go down back there. It was  _my_  plan that got us nearly fucked. But I’m not going to improve,  _none of us will_  by just sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves. I can’t just feel bad about ourselves. We have to  _do_ better.”  
  
“I know man, I don’t plan on just moping around feeling like shit. I’m just enjoying it while I can.” Booker sardonically replied. “Hopefully those traders will have some good shit on them. We got some proper gear or buffs, and then really get the ball rolling.”  
  
Joe nodded. “I’d say buffs are important. Armour we can fashion from gel clumps once we find Rathazhul, and that’ll be more than enough for a while. We just need to get good enough to take on those slimy fucks and win… probably by going after them all at once, rather than piecemeal,” he noted.  
  
Taking a breath, he paused a moment before continuing.  
  
“But… we’ll see what happens. For now, I think I should spend some time training. We’ve got a long way to go before we’ll be able to take on the bigger baddies around the place,” he started walking off. “...Actually, I already have a sword, and you don’t have a proper weapon, while also disliking getting your hands dirty…”  
  
Joe took his bow off his shoulder and presented it to Booker.  
  
“Wanna try your hand at it?”  
  
Booker looked down at the offered weapon, then back up at his friend and shrugged. “Sure, why not.”


	9. Survivor

Tossing another oversized hay bale into the barn, Joe rolled a now significantly bulked up arm with much satisfaction. “Jesus, vitality tinctures are fucking  _great_  man.”  
  
It had been a week since they’d gotten back from the Kitsune Sisters’ mansion, and they’d spent the entire time working out, and the travelling merchant Gitmo- ...Gimli… Guacamole… Whatever the fuck his name was; he’d started showing up at the farm as well now that the imps raiding the trade route were gone, and was more than happy to sell the guys the god’s nectar the moment they asked about them.  
  
Of course, it turned out there was a very good reason not everybody just used them. For starters, he was the only person known to sell them, the only one that knew how to make them, and unlike in the games what they actually did was significantly buff the body’s ability to create muscle mass temporarily.  
  
In other words, they weren’t a magic insta-beach bod item. They only made it easier to build muscle if used properly.  
  
Good thing the guys were actively working out and training every day.  
  
“They even taste great. Fucking love cherry, man,” Joe declared as he downed another cup of tea made from the tinctures.  
  
“It’s like steroids but with none of the drawbacks.” Booker happily declared as he wiped the sweat from his brow and downed his own glass of cherry flavoured iced tea. “It’s fucking amazing! We train, kill imps, get money, buy this, train, and rinse and repeat!”  
  
“Rocket looks like fucking Kratos now, it’s insane,” Joe declared as he set down his cup and wiped his brow. “My shirt’s actually getting a little tight for Christ’s sake. Mareth physics and magic are fucking bullshit, I love it!”  
  
“Mine is still a bit loose on me, but I’ve always had broad shoulders so they’re a little wider than normal,” Booker remarked, tugging at his sweat-drenched shirt. “Which means I don’t need to worry about buying new clothing from traders.”  
  
“Nah, this still gets the job done, just saying is all,” the shorter of the two Canadians stated as he moved to pick up another bale of hay. “But y’know, you’ve really picked up on the bow well. Rocket has that hunting spear, there’s that hatchet that Whitney was okay with giving to us, I’ve got my plank shield…” Joe smiled widely. “Not to mention that pile of bee chitin we just stumbled upon in the woods. We find Rathazul and we’ll even have proper armour. I think we’re damn near ready to start striking out in earnest man.”  
  
The taller of the two men paused, hefting a hay bale onto his shoulder. “Yeah, we might be, but still… feels like we aren’t ready yet. I don’t know, guess it’s just nerves. I just don’t want a repeat of what happened last time, you know.” He resumed working.  
  
“Last time we were weak and didn’t have a proper plan, or equipment. We’ll do a lot better now, I’m sure,” Joe declared, “We just need to find Rath, and we’ll be good to start poking around the more…  _main questy_  stuff, if you get my meaning.”  
  
“Yeah I getcha. We’re definitely a lot stronger than we were before, hell you and I look like old time fucking strong men.” Booker remarked with a hint of pride. “I also don’t want to get cocky, you know? Go deal with some weaker shit before we try taking on stronger enemies.”  
  
“Well, I don’t know how much armour Rath will actually be able to make from those chitin plates…” Joe noted as he casually tossed another hay bale into the barn, making a point to stay out of the cowgirls’ line of sight as he did so. “We should see into hunting down some gels, maybe take out those fucking Vape slimes once and for all and get some more complete armour made.”  
  
Booker, on the other hand, made no such effort to hide from the cowgirls and waved when he got a few moos his way. “I still think it’s hilarious that Rocket’s somehow created a new subspecies of goo girls. I don’t see any problem with them to be honest, but yeah, I think I’d be up for hunting down some gels.”  
  
“The slimes are repeated attempted rapists,” was Joe’s response. “But we should get to bettering our equipment right away here. Every little bit helps.”  
  
“And? It’s only attempted. They don’t give rewards to presidential runner-ups, so I don’t see the problem.” Booker laughed at his own dumb reference. “I won’t stop you from dealing with them, and I’ll drag you out of their clutches, but I’m a bit iffy about killing them.”  
  
“Then deter them, either way, they’re persistent and I’m sick of being chased away from the lake by them, especially given how many good resources can be found around it,” Joe asserted with a grunt as he lifted up and tossed another hay bale. “We have shit to do, and they’re getting in the way.”  
  
“Point.” Booker acquiesced as he threw a hay bale into the barn. “Guess I’ll help deal with them if they show up. Might be a good chance to put my completely amateurish bow skills to use.”  
  
“Don’t bother. Bullets didn’t work, so I doubt arrows will do much to them either,” Joe noted as he sighed in satisfaction once it was clear that they were finished with the job Whitney had given them. “At any rate, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, I wanna go farming for gels. I’m gonna go see if the others are game, you in?”  
  
“Sure, sounds like a plan.” Booker nodded before looking back into the barn. “Guess I’ll relax a bit later, once we’re done our excursion.”  
  
“Alright, I’ll come get you once I’m done checking in with everyone else. Have fun fucking the barnyard critters,” and at that, Joe picked up his jacket and proceeded to explore the farm until he found the others.  
  
“Hey, I was gonna put it off, but if you think there’s time!” Booker called back before turning around and disappearing into the barn.  
  
\---  
  
“Okay, nearly everyone’s here… you sure you can’t come along, Trev?” Joe asked the bearded American, who was looking mighty worn out from doing Marble’s bitch work carrying heavy shit around for ‘conditioning.’  
  
“Yeah, no,” Trevor groaned, lazily waving his hand back and forth. “I’ve…  _Oof_ , I haven’t been at this as long as y’all. Need to close the gap as ASAP as possible. Good luck out there.”  
  
“Shut up Trevor.” Rocket memed at his companion.  
  
“...Well, yeah, I guess we wouldn’t really have enough weapons to go around if you came as well,” the team shieldbearer noted as he looked over their gear. His own short sword and shield, Rocket’s boar spear, Booker’s bow, and Nilas’ hatchet which Whitney still hadn’t noticed had gone missing yet. Not enough to go around for everyone.  
  
Well, Trevor was a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, but he hadn’t been working out for ages and wouldn’t be of much help against anything other than an imp as he was.  
  
Fella needed to work his ass off to catch up with everyone else strength-wise or he’d just be a liability in the field.  
  
“Yeah, you just stick around and keep enabling Marble’s Mister Miyagi routine for now. We’ll catch you up on what happens when we get back,” Joe declared to the departing American, who responded with a weak thumbs-up back at the group before disappearing around the corner of the barn to keep working.  
  
As the American rounded the corner, Booker immediately rushed out of the barn, passing by his friend and turning towards the others. The tall man was dishevelled and hastily putting on his shirt as he made his way over. “Hey, guys.” He waved as he continued to adjust and fix his clothing. “So uh, we all set?”  
  
“Stop fucking the livestock, Canuck.” Rocket sighed, cracking his neck. “Whitney is gonna be pissed you get all of ‘em preggers.”  
  
“Nah man, it’s all fine.” Booker dismissed the biker’s comment. “They buy some birth control from traders so it isn’t a problem. Besides, I got some Welsh ancestry, so quit oppressing me.”  
  
“Too much of a good thing turns into a bad thing.” The Biker said again. “You’ll see. One day shit is gonna get so fucked that not even you could unfuck yourself out of it. Best change now rather than pay the price later.”  
  
Booker went silent for a moment, pretending to contemplate what his friend had said. “Yeah, I guess, but I like sucking those titties too much to stop… and not in the literally addicted sense. Besides,” he shrugged his shoulders, “it gives them release instead of just constantly teasing them. I think I’ve personally prevented at least… one or two stampedes.”  
  
“YOU WHAT!?” Rocket smacked the bespectacled Canadian on the back of the end. “That shit is fattening, you idiot!”   
  
“Says the guy that wanted me to bulk up on dairy.” Booker immediately retorted.  
  
Rocket shook his head. “That was before the vitality tinctures. Now it’ll just make you thicker. Don’t do it. Seriously. No.”  
  
“I work it off in the process.” Booker again shrugged, uncaring about the biker’s grumblings.  
  
It was then that Rocket sighed. “I don’t know how you can drink milk out of something that looks like a fuckin’ human. Half of this world is fucking disgusting. You included.”  
  
He hefted his spear in his grasp. “Regardless, let’s just go kill something.”  
  
“So… are you sure none of the other girls are like Marble?” Nilas stopped spinning his hatchet in the air like an idiot to look at Booker, one eyebrow raised.  
  
“Marble’s a La Bova, an entirely unique and apparently rare species. There’s no reason to suspect the other cowgirls have the same corruptive milk as her,” Joe asserted.  
  
“I know.” The blonde replied, nodding. “But there are already more people here than there ever were in the game. Did you check?”  
  
“Well, we can ask if anyone of them are from the same village as Marble, I guess,” the shorter Canuck shrugged. “Or Whitney. She knew of Marble’s thing if I’m remembering correctly.”  
  
“Probably a good idea to keep it quiet from Marble, though.” Nilas muttered, his brow furrowed, “I remember her not taking that reveal well to start with.”  
  
“I remember that too, and I did ask a bit before doing anything. I’m not a complete idiot. Just some inconspicuous questions like where they were from, their history, etc. I think most got transformed and are just cow morphs rather than La Bova.” Booker responded, explaining himself.  
  
Meanwhile, in the distance Trevor could be seen pulling a cart filled with heavy haystacks and shit like a draft animal behind the cowgirl in question; her going about her daily business as per usual, chatting animatedly and cheerfully with the bespectacled Yankee.  
  
“...Well, I suppose we’ll see what happens,” Joe declared while adjusting the straps of his backpack. “At any rate, we all prepared? Got our gear? I got the bee girl chitin we tripped over in the woods a few days ago in case we find Rath while looking for the rowboat and attempting to farm gels.”  
  
“Yeah sure.” Nilas shrugged, shifting in place and tugging on the hem of his jeans. “You guys have any trouble with your clothes fitting now that we’ve started working out? I swear I can barely fit in these anymore. It’s the gym all over again, I swear...”  
  
“Oh really I didn’t even notice,” Joe asserted rather quickly as the sky suddenly seemed to have gotten real interesting to him.  
  
Booker glanced over to his Australian friend and looked him over, brow furrowed. “Nilas… have you been skipping upper body exercise? Because it looks like you have.”  
  
“Have you even been lifting, Nilas?” Joe quipped as his gaze returned to eye level.  
  
The blonde gave them both a dead-pan stare. “You’ve been there with me when I was hauling hay, Booker. I haven’t skipped shit. This just always happen, I swear.” He threw his hands up. “I have no fucking clue where the work all goes, it’s like anything above the waist refuses to change.”  
  
“Yeah, looks like it.” Booker remarked, awkwardly pulling his gaze away from the Aussie’s rear.  
  
Rocket had long since gone past the point of fitting into his jacket. Now shirtless, he bared his muscles to the world.  
  
“I WILL HAVE REVENGE ON OLYMPUS.” He flexed. “ODIN IS ALSO A FAGGOT.”  
  
Joe rolled his eyes. “Yes, Rocket, you’re built like Kratos now, we noticed… now okay, seriously, we all good to go? We have my sword...”  
  
“You have my bow.” Booker smirked as he held up his weapon, and patted the full quiver on his back.  
  
“Huh?” Nilas blinked. “Oh! And my axe!” He shook the small hatchet.  
  
“ZEUUUUUUUS!” Rocket screamed into the sky.  
  
Joe just sighed and shook his head before looking back up at the group. “Alright guys, enough dicking around, let’s go hunting.”  
  
At that, he turned and started down towards the lake, hoping they’d finally come across something useful instead of just being chased off by those fucking slimes again.  
  
\---  
  
“Bottle of Equinium, Incubus Draft, and a used condom…” Joe said while noting everything they’d found thus far, ending with pointing at the condom resting on the beach next to a tiny crab picking at the ground rather idly.  
  
Their search hadn’t turned up much at all thus far, needless to say.  
  
“Ok,” Nilas started, pointing at the rubber. “Firstly, who around here is actually using condoms? I’m as confused as I am impressed. And secondly… have you guys ever wondered what would happen if you mixed two transformative potions together and used it?”  
  
“No.” Rocket started. “Because I don’t care to know what happens. You’ll probably grow a horsecock and a demon tail or something. I don’t know. I’ll give you three gems if you drink it.”  
  
“Fuck no, I wasn’t going to actually try it. I was just thinking, since it’s magic and shit. We have no clue how it works.” The Australian replied, shaking his head.  
  
“We can ask Rathazhul when, and  _if_  we ever find him,” Joe declared as he squinted out across the beach, scanning for… anything.  
  
He stopped when he noticed a commotion going on further down the shoreline. A short, robed figure beset upon by a pair of amorphous green figures…  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh shit!  
  
“Fuck! Rathazul, attacked by green gels!” The Canuck declared as he bolted off towards the action, “fucking move it!”  
  
“Oh shit, okay!” Booker clutched his bow as he rushed after Joe. He didn’t want to fire a shot with how far away they were from the rat alchemist, fearful that he’d hit Rathazul instead of the gels.  
  
The rat was swinging a walking stick with a bulbous mace-like head on the end at the gels, which were actually making an effort to avoid the attempted strikes while he cursed aloud. They were closing in on him, inch by inch.  
  
Nilas hefted his axe awkwardly, watching the fight as he began to jog towards it. He took up position just outside of reach of the fight, unsure of what actually to do. This was it, his first fight. And it was against a slime monster while using an axe. What was he even going to manage to do to them?  
  
Joe, meanwhile, charged full boar and brought his sword down on the outstretched, only vaguely arm-like appendage of the gel reaching out to grab at the elderly rat man, who seemed taken aback by the Canadian’s sudden intervention.  
  
The limb came off with little more than a wet splurch as it fell to the sand and rapidly seemed to dry out, shrivelling into a green chunk of hardened shit.  
  
A shield bash followed, pushing the green blob back with a tremble. “Blades work on them!” Joe shouted, placing himself between the rat man and the gels as he noticed up close that the creatures seemed more… solid than the slime girls. They were also far less masculine in shape than in the game. Looking more like semi-solid blobs that only briefly took on vaguely human shapes jutting out of random parts of their masses as they shifted around on the sandy beach.  
  
It was creepy as fuck, damn near Lovecraftian… but the thing clearly felt that attack, considering the way it was backing off.  
  
With no other idea of what to do, Nilas stepped forward and swung his axe at the second creature. It sunk deep into the mass with a wet sound, causing it to spasm and pull away. He almost lost grip on his weapon when it pulled with it for a brief moment before tugging free. The gel suddenly surged upwards, the top half taking on a vaguely humanoid shape as it brought two whip-like limbs down towards him.  
  
The blonde moved to leap back, catching a glancing blow on his knee as he did. It buckled slightly from the sudden hit, turning the leap into an awkward lumber backwards as he swung his axe to ward it off.  
  
Booker stopped short of the combat, reaching back for an arrow and pausing before notching it. He wasn’t sure how effective he’d be against the gels, and momentarily if he’d be more useful if he’d just grab a stick…  
  
He continued the motion and awkwardly fired an arrow into a nearby gel, taking care to avoid aiming anywhere near his friends. It carved through it’s slimy flesh and got stuck half way through, but the gel seemed unperturbed by the projectile’s sudden intrusion.  
  
“Hell, bullets didn’t work! What makes you think an arrow will?” Rocket jibed, hefting his spear before rushing forward.  
  
In a few bounds he was upon them, a grunt escaping him as the tip of his spear slammed into a gel, the rusty point burying itself into its gooey flesh and sinking in with every push.  
  
“Die, you jello looking motherfucker!” He roared.  
  
“God damn it!” Booker cursed as he stopped firing and stood back, unable to help.  
  
The gel harassing the Australian suddenly surged forward, its arm-like pseudopods swinging out at his feet. He awkwardly jumped, barely reacting in time, and let out a short shout as he brought the hatchet down hard on the now in reach body of the monster.  
  
It connected with a wet thunk, sinking deeper than Nilas had expected as the entire head disappeared into the now flailing green mass with a splash of goo. His eyes widened in shock and he tugged on the handle of the weapon as he tried to force it free. Suddenly, it came free with a wet sound; Pulling the man off balance. Caught by surprise, the gel-slick handle of the hatchet came free of his grip and went sailing off behind him. “Fuck!”  
  
Booker let out a cry of surprise and jumped to the side as the hatchet flew by him, and landed on the ground in a thud, squishy thud.  
  
Now unarmed, Nilas leapt out of the way of a flailing attack from the gel and scrambled to put distance between them as quickly as he could.  
  
Booker dropped the bow and dashed over to the hatchet. He quickly wiped the slimy gel off with his shirt, leaving it dry enough that he could trust his grip. The Canadian rushed towards the gel and brought the hatchet down upon an outstretched pseudo-limb. The blade cut clean through, severing it as it dropped to the ground.  
  
The gel retracted for a moment, its other appendages shying away from him and trying to retract back into its body.  
  
He swung again, cleaving a chunk off the blob, causing a few more limbs to drop to the ground.  
  
With a final mighty swing, the gel Rocket had pinned to the ground finally stopped moving as the chunks that had been lopped off its body stopped quivering at all, and Joe turned to Booker. “Coming your way!”  
  
He charged towards the remaining gel and plunged his sword into it, pinning it down with his body weight as it lashed out and wrapped its long, unpleasant limbs around his leg.  
  
“Fucking butcher it!” He shouted at the taller Canadian.  
  
Booker immediately brought the hatchet down on the gel, careful to avoid hitting his friend. The blade dug deep into its slimy flesh and cut off the appendages before they could wrap around Joe’s leg.  
  
The severed chunk fell like the ones before, and Booker continued wailing on the gel, hacking it to pieces on swing at a time. The gel eventually stopped moving, its amorphous body hacked to pieces and skewered on Joe’s sword.  
  
They had won…  
  
“...That was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” Joe declared as he drew his blade from the now still remains of the gelatinous remains, looking more than a little surprised as Rocket approached the group with his spear rested on his shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, well it turns out using something with a small handle against a living pile of Jello isn’t the safest thing to do.” Nilas joked flatly as he wiped the grass and dirt off of his pants.  
  
Glancing between the two now dead monsters and Rocket, Joe sighed heavily as he wiped his sword dry. “It would have been this easy to fight the Vape slimes, wouldn’t it…”  
  
“Uh, Vape slimes?” The blonde asked, giving the man a confused look.  
  
“Rocket’s vape got stolen by a slime and now there’s a bunch of cloudy slimes lead by the one that stole said vape.” Booker informed Nilas, wiping his slime covered hands off on his shirt.  
  
“...Right.” Nilas said in a bemused tone, blinking several times before smirking. “I think the biggest, more disturbing thing I learned there was that Rocket actually vapes.”  
  
“I am aware that it is easy to forget about one’s elders,” Rathazul started up from a little ways away, leaning on his walking stick and scratching at his extended chin. “But am I truly so unremarkable as to simply fade into the background so?”  
  
“Nah,” The blonde waved a hand in his direction. “I just wanted to get that weird little reveal out of the way first. One of these guys do the talking more, really.” He gestured at the other three.  
  
Booker looked to the elderly rat man. He’d gotten used to the sight of furries in the couple weeks he’d been on Whitney’s farm, and so wasn’t taken aback by his appearance. “Sorry just kind of focused on dealing with the gels. Are you okay?”  
  
“I will be now that those abominations have been dealt with,” the Master Splinter-looking fellow asserted as he turned around and started making his way towards a cauldron a few feet behind him. “It is rare to find an adventuring party in this day and age, I must say.”  
  
“Oh?” Nilas asked, paying a little more attention. He had wondered about stuff like that himself before, like he’d spoken to Booker about. And here was a good chance to find possible answers. “How come?”  
  
The rat man sighed heavily as he poked at the fire crackling beneath his big iron pot, grabbing a ladle that looked to have been dropped hastily, wiping it free of sand and dunking it back into the cauldron to stir away. “Well, for starters, there aren’t many people willing to leave the safety of their havens in this day and age. With good reason too, Demons are feared for a reason young man.”  
  
That was fair, but still. “There’s got to be some places that can’t just afford to hide though, right? Or are there really so few like that now?” While playing the game, it was always hard to get a good grasp on just how afflicted the general world was by the demons. And how many free people were actually left.  
  
The elderly figure let out a long, weary sigh as he seemed to have to force himself to keep stirring away at the contents of his pot. “Any that were brave or foolish enough to directly stand against the demon hordes fell in short order… he glanced up, giving the group long, hard looks. “I wager that none of you are old enough to remember the war…” then he looked downwards, at their clothing. “...or perhaps that you’re all recent arrivals, am I right?”  
  
“Yeah, we’re pretty new. We’ve only been here for a couple weeks.” Booker replied.  
  
Rathazul nodded a few times with a tired look in his old wizened eyes. “Well then, allow me to explain something to you young men… a lone demon is capable of destroying a trained soldier armoured in full steel plate, armed with the best weapons the crown could provide, in but moments…” he shrugged. “I’m not speaking of imps, of course, but even imps, when coordinated can attack in such overwhelming numbers that the best-equipped warriors cannot fight them off. But, the likes of succubi, and incubi…”  
  
He shuddered.  
  
“They can defeat minotaurs in battle, and when they fight humans… they don’t simply kill their foes, lads. They convert them into more succubi and incubi. More monsters capable of single-handedly defeating the best Old Mareth had to offer.”  
  
He looked at the group, rather sadly.  
  
“You four… you would be helpless before a lone demon of that calibre. Lethice sent entire armies of them against Marae’s forces… and consider that when one is turned into a servant of the corruption,  _they remember where their hometown is located._ ”  
  
“...Fuck, that’s a good point.” Was all Nilas could say, sounding dejected.  
  
Booker elected to remain silent, uncomfortable with the somber turn the conversation had suddenly taken.  
  
Rathazul nodded grimly. “What few safe havens remain in Mareth cannot afford to allow their citizenry to leave with delusions of saving the world. If you folks see someone adventuring through these lands, it would be safe to assume they are not native to these lands, much like yourself.”  
  
He paused for a moment before he resumed stirring his pot.  
  
“That, or they have no hometown to return to, or for the demons to find in the first place.”  
  
There was silence for a moment, as everyone just kind of absorbed that information. The Australian side-eyed his friends briefly as it stretched on, seeing if they were going to do anything. Finally he spoke up. “Well, we were happy to have helped you…” He trailed off, obviously asking the rat man’s name.  
  
“You ain’t safe here.” Rocket finally said. “I’d hate to see you stumbling into one of those demons you fear so much.  
  
The elderly rat man shrugged. “I have a duty here, self-imposed though it may be. Your concern is appreciated though… and my name is Rathazul, lads.” He nodded and lifted the ladle out of the pop, revealing a steaming, creamy liquid with chunks of something floating about in it. Then he took an experimental sip. “More salt, definitely…” He declared while fumbling around in his robes.  
  
“What duty is that?’ Booker spoke up.  
  
“Measuring the levels of corruption in the lake, and, hopefully, eventually finding a way to purify them,” he stated while turning to look out over the picturesque lake. “Those horrid creatures,” he said while gesturing towards the rapidly solidifying clumps of green gel at their feet. “They are products of the corruption slowly overtaking these holy waters. I cannot… I can’t just sit by and do  _nothing_.”  
  
He suddenly looked as if he was supporting the weight of the world on his shoulders.  
  
“Futile as my efforts may be, as all attempts to resist the demons are…”  
  
The air was growing increasingly more and more uncomfortable, and Joe decided that he might as well interject before things got any more depressing.  
  
“Hey, Rathazul,” the Canuck began as he stepped forward to the elderly alchemist. “We need better equipment, like armour. Do you know where we could find anything?”  
  
Just demanding that he make them gear would look…  _odd_  given that they weren’t supposed to know who he was.  
  
Rathazul looked up at the man, looked him and the others over again, then finished with a glance at the piles of gel on the ground nearby. “As a matter of fact, I know how to fashion that corrupted gel into functional armour, though there isn’t enough here for a full suit...:”  
  
Joe shrugged. “Anything would help, sir.”  
  
The old man pondered something for a moment before nodding once. “Well… yes, I suppose I could make some light armour for two of you… perhaps you and your helmeted friend over there,” he pointed towards Rocket. “It will not be much, but it will be better than nothing, I suppose.”  
  
“That will be fine for now,” Joe nodded gratefully. “Also, we have some bee chitin… could you work with that as well?”  
  
“Easily,” the rat man declared. “Hand it over, and I’ll get working with what I have here for you fellows.”  
  
The Canuck nodded again, pulling the bee chitin from his bag and handing it over. “How much will this cost us?”  
  
“Consider it a reward to saving me from being molested by those horrors,” Rathazul said as he looked over the obsidian-like black plates.  
  
“Ah… well, okay, thank you,” with that, Joe stepped back to rejoin the others, waiting for their armour to get made.  
  
“So…” Nilas started, tapping his shoe against the grass idly. “I guess we already kind of found some gels like you wanted. We going to keep looking for more, or do something else? Cause I’m pretty shitty with that hatchet, not sure I’ll be much help if so.”  
  
Joe turned to face the shorter blonde, and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’re gonna need to get you more used to fighting with a weapon before we do anything more serious. We should head back once our armour is ready.”  
  
“I’m not a miracle worker boy. It’s gonna take me a few days to get done even what little I can make with the materials here,” Rathazul interjected. “Unless you mean to camp out on the beach here, it’d be best for you all to be on your way for now.”  
  
Joe was surprised, then disappointed. He was kind of hoping that Rath would be able to make armour stupidly fast like he could in the game proper, but alas…  
  
“Does anyone else want to take the bow? It’s pretty much useless against gels.” Booker said as he walked over to the bow and picked it up off the ground. “I feel like dead weight using it.”  
  
“I’ll just take it back for now. We’re heading back to the farm anyways, so it doesn’t matter I think,” Joe noted as he sheathed his now clean sword and rolled his shoulder.  
  
“Alright, probably for the best.” Booker stated. “We handled ourselves pretty well all things considered.”  
  
“I guess we kind of got stuff done.” The blonde added as well, hands in his pockets. “So weird fighting those things.”  
  
“We’ll get used to it, probably,” Joe said as he patted Rocket on the shoulder before turning on his heel and proceeding down the lakeshore back to the farm. “We’ll be back in a few days, Rathazul. Stay safe out here.”  
  
“Maybe don’t hang out too close to the water?” Nilas suggested, cocking his shoulders a bit.  
  
“There is no such thing as safety in Mareth, as you’ll quickly come to learn, lads,” Rathazul called back as they departed. “May Marae watch over you all, regardless.”  
  
And with that, the elderly rat man faded into the distance, working as he was as the four dudes walked onwards.


	10. Purity

“Guys,” Joe declared, thrusting his hand out on a halting gesture. “Rowboat,” he pointed outward at the lake shore.  
  
Booker looked to where his friend had indicated, and indeed, there was a rowboat tied to a small, rustic dock. “Huh, so there is. Think it will hold all of us?” He remarked as they began approaching the old structure.  
  
“With you on the boat?” Rocket began teasingly. “Might be pushing it.”  
  
“Be nice,” Joe interjected. “Concerns about weight aside, should someone head back to the farm and let them know about this before we head out? I mean, just in case?”  
  
The team shared a look, and collectively shrugged. They’d probably be fine.  
  
Joe glanced back at the rowboat, and growled as he realised something. “I’m sure we’re going to have lots of fun with rowing the damned thing.”  
  
“Dibs not having to do it!” Nilas piped up as he leapt into the boat and settled on the prowl, grinning like a fox.  
  
“Okay,” Joe stated as he drew his blade and dumped it on Nilas’ lap before taking position in the rowing seat. “Since I’ll be tired from rowing for hours on end, you’re the one that’s gonna defend us if we get attacked by any shark girls or anemones.”  
  
The Australian grunted in surprise at the sudden sword in his lap, then flailed his arms in his friend’s direction. “And you want to trust these chicken sticks to row us to the island before night falls?”  
  
“Eh, quit complaining.” Booker interjected as he followed them onto the small craft. “We all know the only reason you aren’t ripped is bullshit Mareth aesthetics.”  
  
“It’d be better you do it than one of the guys that’s the group’s actual melee combatant who needs his arms to fight,” Joe declared through lidded eyes.  
  
“Urgh, fiiiiine.” Nilas groaned and lifted the sword up for Joe to take back, before carefully getting to his feet as the boat rocked. Joe reclaimed the blade before Nilas shuffled further down to where the oars and Booker stood. Suddenly his grin returned and he clapped the tall man on the shoulder, gesturing towards the oars as he did so. “Looks like you’re going to have to do it, buddy. Sorry.”  
  
Then cackling, he scurried back to the front as Rocket quietly claimed a seat of his own.  
  
“And you’re going to have to row on the way back.” Booker responded, sighing before he shifted his seat and took up the oars. “Let’s hope we won’t need a bigger boat.” He grumbled and with a grunt he began rowing, taking them away from the dock and into the open water.  
  
“Don’t get any water splashed on you,” Joe warned. “It’s full of nasty demon jizz and stuff, if you’ll recall.”  
  
“And here I was thinking about taking a nice dip in the sharkgirl infested water.” Booker sarcastically remarked.  
  
And so, the four dudes rowed further into the heart of the lake, all the while hoping they wouldn’t get raped before finding the Goddess at the centre of it.  
  
\---  
  
“Fuck,” Joe declared between rows. “This,” he grunted in intense annoyance. “Bullshit,” He growled in frustration. “Lake!”  
  
Two hours they’d been rowing aimlessly. Everyone had taken a turn rowing by that point, and it really wasn’t fun anymore.  
  
Nilas groaned from where he was slumped lazily, tucked between the bench at the front of the rowboat and the prow. “And it doesn’t even have the warping shit going on. It’s just a big fucking lake and a lot of fog.”  
  
Eyes scanning the water around them, the Australian sat up suddenly and squinted. Dark shapes in the fog began to grow clearer as they moved closer. He pointed out over the water. “Hey guys, check it. I think we might have found it.”  
  
“Oh thank fuck!” Joe cried out in relief. “Finally! Fuck this lake man!”  
  
Rocket remained quiet, the glare in his visor flashing as he stood from his seat.  
  
A moment passed, and for the first time in what seemed like a long time, he broke his silence.  
  
“That ain’t no island.” He grumbled, leaning forward. “Thar be boobies.”  
  
Nilas glanced over at him and snorted. “What? Is that a dumb joke? I guess it’s kind of hilly, but still.”  
  
Booker peered at the island, noticing it was subtly rising and falling. “Uh guys, I think that’s the giant turtle chick.”  
  
Rocket’s head spun around so fast he could’ve broken his neck. “Joey!” He hissed loudly. “Row the fuck away from here!”  
  
The boat was already spinning and moving away from the great mounds shrouded in mysterious fog by the time Rocket started to speak, memories of that playthrough where he made the mistake of simply talking to the giant turtle bitch and getting shoved up her cooch for all of time playing through in his head as he desperately rowed with all his might away from her.  
  
His eyes were wide, pupils pinpricks, veins on his neck popping as he pushed through the burn in his arm desperately. Plz no downstairs vore, no unbirthing,  _plz no_.  
  
The giant green girl seemed to be mercifully sleeping, and they weren’t being loud enough to wake her as they paddled away in fear.  
  
Joe idly recalled hearing assertions that his sudden, unexpected bad end in the game proper was a result of a glitch in his game version at the time, but fuck the lord in heaven if he was going to take that risk in real life now, potential source of lore or no, he didn’t want nothing to do with those mountainous titties.  
  
So they fled away from the turtle girl deeper into the foggy lake, the only sound being Nilas’ confused questions.  
  
\---  
  
“That had better be the actual fucking island and not the turtle chick again,” Joe grumbled from the front of the boat, Booker having taken over for him once his arms stopped responding to commands to move.  
  
There was a shape in the distance, difficult to make out, but clearly jutting out from the water’s surface.  
  
Then the sandbar became visible. “Oh thank fuck it’s actually the island!” Joe cheered.  
  
“Thank fuck!” Booker exclaimed as his arms protested in pain. He grunted as he picked up the pace and headed straight towards the island. “I don’t think there’s any other island sized monster girls either, so hopefully we’re in the clear!”  
  
Within moments, they hit the sand and Joe leapt out, legs somewhat shaky from underuse, but happy as fuck nonetheless. “Good lord… right, how big was this place in the game again?”  
  
Rocket sprinted up the sandbar like he was a marine storming the beaches of Iwo Jima, hoisting his spear in his grasp as his boots thudded heavily against the grass that led up away from the beach. “Okay, Tree Lady, I’m here to kick some demon ass!”  
  
Clearly he had been on the boat too long.  
  
“Calm down,” Joe said as Booker and Nilas disembarked from the boat with a lot less eagerness than Rocket or himself had. “Unless Marae’s already been corrupted herself, this island should be completely safe. She should be at the centre, I’d assume…”  
  
The Canadian turned around and squinted back the way they’d came.  
  
“...Y’know, now that I think about it, was the lake proper always this damned foggy in the game?”  
  
“I don’t know. I only recalled it being wide as fuck.” Booker remarked as he dragged the boat onto the sand to make it didn’t drift away. “Probably keeps the island hidden from fliers.”  
  
“I think it was, or at least parts of it.” Nilas spoke up as he moved to join the others, stretching his legs and back. “There’s no reason to assume it doesn’t work like a normal lake, after all. Though... I think some parts of the fog are unnaturally thick. Especially at this time of day.”  
  
“Evidently Australian lakes work differently from Canadian lakes, because I lived next to one of the biggest ones in the Territories for a few years, and the only time it got foggy was because everything else was foggy too,” Joe shrugged his shoulders as he started up the slope leading inland. “Anyways, c’mon, let’s find this wayward Goddess and figure out what’s happening.”  
  
“Holy shit, no one fucking cares.” Rocket sighed. “Why are we talking about the geographical differences between bodies of water and the differentiating circumstances that occur during inclimate weather and other events depending on the terrain and current season of the region?”  
  
Everyone ignored the biker’s diatribe as they marched up the grassy hills.  
  
A few moments passed before Joe spoke up again.  
  
“Okay, so real talk, we’re about to have confirmation about whether we’re the Champions or not,” he glanced back at his comrades. “Can I count on you guys to go all-in if we are? Because I’m not backing down from this.”  
  
“If we aren’t, then it’s not like I have anything better to do.” Rocket responded, giving his spear a twirl. “Pretty sure that champion thing was all bullshit in the end.”  
  
“Yeah, it didn’t mean anything in the first place. Unless we get a blessing I don’t think it’d change anything.” Booker replied, looking between the others. “I’ll stick by you guys though. I don’t think I could live with myself if I let any of you run off by yourself and get turned into a demon’s fucktoy.”  
  
“I’unno.” Nilas shrugged, looking genuinely lost on what to say. “Ask me again once we finish talking to her I guess. I’m kind of stuck on the whole meeting a literal goddess thing right now.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Joe nodded as the group continued uphill, now wordlessly. They’d know soon enough what fate had in store for them.  
  
\---  
  
“...I think that’s her,” the shorter Canuck declared as a great, strangely beautiful, comforting tree just visible past the edge of the fog at the highest point of the island. The lone piece of foliage present which was larger than a bush “This… should be interesting.”  
  
“Yuuup.” The Australian added simply, clicking his tongue. He glanced at the rest of the group, seeing what they were going to do.  
  
“I wonder if she can hear us right now.” Booker mused aloud as he gazed upon the distance figure in the fog. “Hopefully we can make a good first impression if nothing else.”  
  
“Let’s get it over with.” Rocket mumbled, starting to trudge forward. “We’re doing this because it’s the right thing to do, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” Booker nodded as he followed after the Biker.  
  
“Indeed,” Joe agreed as he started up as well.  
  
Nothing to really add, Nilas followed along quietly with his hands in his pockets.  
  
The group approached, some with more trepidation than others, and were quickly upon the great, holy tree which was giving off much the same vibes as the tree bearing the Beautiful Sword back on the mainland shoreline. There was a gulf of difference between the two, however. This tree was felt old, far older than any tree that had seen before. It seemed to fill the area with an almost palpable weight as it towered above the group, its branches crawling outwards and shading the area with thick, vibrant foliage.  
  
As they neared, the fog which blanketed the area seemed to lift, opening up like an eye in the storm and granting a clear view of the azure sky above.  
  
A small pocket of cloudy mist persisted near the base as they came to a stop before it, and only after they stared upon it for a few moments did it clear completely.  
  
There were no words to adequately describe the motherly beauty of the woman gazing upon them, a gentle, comforting smile directed their way.  
  
In an instant, Joe felt an intense tension he hadn’t realised had been there leave his shoulders, and was invigorated despite having been previously exhausted by their venture, if only a bit. Immediately, standing before all the goodness in the world, any lingering seedlings of doubt which had taken hold in his heart were gone, and he knew that he would not allow the Corruption to take this figure standing before them.  
  
Booker wasn’t a religious man, yet he felt a sense of reverence as he looked upon the face of the goddess. In that moment he did not question her divine nature for he could feel it radiating from her and softly enveloping everything around him. He knew he was in the presence of a truly powerful being, even in a crippled state, and could only stare in muted awe.  
  
Standing where he was, it was as if any chill had suddenly left the air as Nilas stared at the figure sprouting from the tree. He had expected to feel apprehension, fear or even just tension over standing before a goddess. But all he could feel was calm, and awed. Standing where he was, and thinking of this woman’s eventual and possible fate, he realized just what it meant to have something worth fighting for.  
  
Rocket was silent, the opaque visor of his helmet betraying no emotion, but his body language said everything that needed to be said. He wouldn’t allow the demons to win, not when this was what was on the line.  
  
“Brave heroes,” the treeborne Goddess began, her voice as sweet as honey, smooth as silk, reaching deep within them and somehow touching them deep within their souls, further invigorating and bolstering their wills. “My brave Champions…”  
  
She smiled widely at them.  
  
“Seeing you four standing before me now, pressing on against hardships when it would be so easy to stand by and hide, as so many before you have… I feel a blossoming hope that perhaps my children may yet be saved from the encroaching darkness.”  
  
Stunned silence was all they could manage in response.  
  
She continued on, warmly smiling down upon them as she did so. “I can feel the determination in your hearts, hesitation and uncertainty giving way to resolute strength, strength which you will need to draw upon for the coming trials and tribulations which you will come upon in your journeys. Strength which will carry you to victory, just as it carried you here to me, despite nothing more than chance having brought you to this world.”  
  
“So…” Nilas started, then took a moment to wet his dry throat. “So, are you… making us your champions right now?”  
  
“You have made that decision yourselves,” Marae said soothingly. “Or do your hearts not speak the truth of your intentions?” Notably, the Goddess’ gaze dwelled on Booker for but an instant longer than the others, her expression falling nearly imperceptibly for but a moment.  
  
Booker’s glance fell slightly, unable to meet her eyes. He was resolved to help his friends and keep them alive, but he still had his doubts about his ability to save Mareth. If Joe, Rocket, and Nilas would insist on risking themselves then he’d follow, but where they to give up then he’d be tempted to do so as well.  
  
“I uh, I guess?” The Australian replied, sounding confused and unsure. “I was just wondering what it mean if anything you know. This is a lot to take in.”  
  
“So…” Joe interjected, addressing the Goddess inquisitively. “You didn’t bring us here? Our appearance is pure chance?”  
  
“I do not possess the power to reach out across the realms of creation, no,” Marae replied. “Were it so, I would not hesitate to return you poor souls home… alas, all I can do is offer my blessing, and smile upon the heroic spirit I feel blossoming within you, even as we speak.”  
  
“But, should you decide that you would not seek out the dangers which have claimed so many before you, know that I shall bear no ill will towards any of you. My greatest wish is to see no child harmed, even those not born of my roots,” she declared, eyes again lingering on Booker for an instant longer than the others, and to a lesser extent, Nilas. “But I will grant all I can to those with the will to be the Champions I and my children so desperately need.”  
  
“Wh-what does that entail?” Booker spoke up, his mouth as he stuttered in response.  
  
Nilas was quiet, having been ready to ask the same question.  
  
“Alas, as it stands, I am a hair’s breadth away from withering, falling before this terrible, all-consuming corruption myself… the only boon I may presently offer is Purity’s Light, the blade of Corruption’s Bane which you have already encountered. It refused your touch at the time because your hearts were not truly set upon being the Champions this world needs, but now…”  
  
She smiled reassuringly at the four, a smile which washed over them in a nearly palpable warmth.  
  
“The blade will aid you in your quest. This is a certainty.”  
  
Joe nodded, feeling a confident smile find purchase on his face. “For now, that will be more than enough.”  
  
Marae nodded. “I know. In time, should you succeed in clearing the world of the Corruption, I shall regain my strength and offer all I can as I become more powerful, be whatever you may need.”  
  
“What of the other gods and goddesses?” Nilas asked suddenly, his brow furrowed lightly. “Are they still around? And… what happens if they were corrupted?”  
  
“They will have to be purified,” Marae gravely responded. “If any of my peers have fallen, I can provide you the means to cleanse them, but only after I regain my strength. For now, should you have any inkling that a corrupted god is near, you must flee with all of your strength, for they will be far beyond you.”  
  
“Good to know we might be going up against one.” The Australian chuckled weakly.  
  
Booker was slightly horrified by the prospect of encountering a corrupted god or goddess. He only hoped that if that ever were to happen they’d notice it and have enough time to flee.  
  
In spite of his fear though, he felt his resolve strengthen, if anything. He needed to be strong enough to stand up against any corrupt gods that would stand against them. He was realizing that if they survived they all possess the potential to grow exponentially in power. It wasn’t just physical training to become fit, but possibly being strong enough to swat aside minotaurs and cause deities to take notice.  
  
Marae nodded at the pair reassuringly. “Have heart, my Champions. I sense the potential to cast down the demons and purify the corruption plaguing this world deep within you. You need only seek it out and embrace it to realise your capacity for heroism.”  
  
Booker shallowly nodded his head, feeling reassured by her encouragement.  
  
Nilas was silent, his face twisted up in heavy thought. If Marae was willing to put that much faith in him, likely close to the end of her existence thanks to the Corruption flooding the lake, then there wasn’t anything but weak excuses to why he couldn’t believe it himself.  
  
That also brought up another thing. The blond looked up at Marae, once again momentarily stunned by her presence and beauty, then said, “There is a factory flooding this lake with Corruption. If we got rid of it, would that be enough to let you regain some strength?”  
  
The goddess’ face became stern, staring down upon the four with a steely gaze as she replied. “Though the factory is indeed corrupting the waters of my lake, forcing me to partake in these wretched fluids… the forces stationed there are beyond all of you as you are. I implore you Champions, be brave of heart, but do not allow yourself to be struck by the moon. You must temper yourselves gradually, only then will you find yourselves with the might to stop them from harming me as they do.”  
  
Joe’s mouth was set into a grimace. He didn’t remember the demons guarding the factory being all that tough, but if Marae was warning them against going there so early… “We understand. We shall do what we can to build our strength until we’re fit to challenge that place directly.”  
  
Marae smiled broadly at them. “And I know precisely what my Champions should aim for so early in their quest. In the shifting sands of the Pearl Wastes, there is a temple which was built to me in ages past, when the land was still fertile, hidden from the demonic hordes. There should a Branch of Purity enshrined there. It shall restore some of the power of Purity’s Light. The blade shall guide your way. Seek it out, and the sword shall grow ever stronger.”  
  
Joe nodded resolutely. “Well guys, next stop: Tel A’dre.”  
  
“Agreed.” Booker nodded in response.  
  
“Uh, sure. Sounds good.” Nilas joined in, raising one finger in question. “Though one question. What is a Branch of Purity, exactly?”  
  
For the first time, Marae looked genuinely  _pained_  when Nilas asked her that question, and she took a moment to reply. “...For now, all you know is that it will begin with process of restoring Purity’s Light to its former glory, my Champions.”  
  
“...Alright.” The Australian said. He wanted to ask more, specifically what exactly it looked like so they could actually know what it was when they found it. But, he wasn’t going to be the one to push the goddess to answer.  
  
Joe, on the other hand, being as dense as he was… “Can you at least tell us what it will look like?”  
  
The Goddess nodded. “It will resemble a branch of mine, as you can plainly see where you stand, simply…” She paused, very visibly wrestling with something internally before continuing. “Juvenile. It will be in the heart of the temple, plainly visible to see. You will not miss it, I assure you.”  
  
Nilas nodded to show he understood. “Thanks. We’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it then.”  
  
“Purity’s Light shall guide your way,” she assured them. “Now… there is little else I may do for you brave Champions at this time. It would be best for you to be on your way… I do not wish for you to push yourselves needlessly into danger, but… please hurry, heroes. I can only resist the Corruption for so long.”  
  
Joe nodded, eyes filled with determination. “If there’s nothing else, we’ll be on our way, ma’am.”  
  
Marae shook her head. “I have nothing else to provide at this juncture.”  
  
“Then we’ll leave, and will do everything we can to help you and this land,” the shorter of the two Canucks declared as he started to back away. “You have our word.”  
  
In response, Marae simply smiled widely at the group. “I know.”  
  
At that, the group turned, and finally set back off for the rowboat at the base of the island.  
  
On their way back, Joe addressed the biker in their midst. “You’ve been real quiet, Rocket.”  
  
“Mm,” the American started, spear still hoisted over his shoulder. “Thinking.”  
  
That seemed to be all he had to offer at the moment, so nobody chose to press him further.  
  
As they moved back towards the rowboat, leaving the area of Marae’s presence, Nilas felt the sense of calm that had fallen over him fade away. While he was far less worried than before, and still determined, one thought came to mind. Glancing at the others, he said, “So… are we going to keep an eye out for the real Champion still? As much faith as she has in us… we know that the next person or so through the portal likely is able to save this place.”  
  
“And they’ll have four ready and able pairs of hands backing them up this time,” Joe replied matter-of-factly.  
  
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good to me.” Nilas shrugged.  
  
“Assuming they even show up in the first place.” Booker remarked as they walked back to the boat. “Their village was sending sacrifices through every year. Marae just declared us her Champions. Why are we waiting for some rando to make their appearance?”  
  
“To keep some poor sod from being turned into Zetaz’s unwilling cocksleeve, if nothing else,” Joe declared. “Time will tell, either way, we know that the little red fucker from the first scene of the game hasn’t made a move against Ingnam’s sacrifice, so if nothing else, we ought to scout out the Wasteland and see if we can find that portal ahead of time and keep an eye out for them.”  
  
The Australian raised his eyebrows at Booker, looking faintly unimpressed at his reaction. “And on top of what Joe said, maybe because that rando will be another person who has the ability to help us? And has the drive to actually do so? I mean, they got right to work without even needing to meet a goddess for motivation.” The look he was giving the taller man made it obvious who he was referencing.  
  
Booker frowned and shot a glare towards his Australian glare. “If the ‘Champion’ is capable of fighting I’d eagerly look forward to it and would welcome it, but I don’t want to put too much hope on some random person becoming the world’s savoir.”  
  
“I never said to do that, man.” Nilas verbally dismissed the argument, shrugging his shoulders and moving towards the boat. “You’re the one putting words in my mouth here.”  
  
“Better than him putting his cock in your mouth,” Rocket declared with about as much grace as could be expected of him. “Stop whining, more bodies to throw at the enemy isn’t a bad thing.”  
  
“And regardless,” Joe cut in sharply. “We  _know for a fact_  that Zetaz hasn’t made his move against the canonical Champion yet, and if nothing else I’m not going to stand by knowing that they’re going to be assaulted by the little cretin. I’ll be scouting out the Wasteland to search for the portal, if anyone wants to join me, feel free.”  
  
Climbing into the boat, Nilas settled back down on the prow with a shit-eating grin. “Dibs not rowing again.”  
  
Joe forcibly picked the tiny Australian up and put him into the rowing seat. “Row, rowing bitch,” he commanded as Booker and Rocket climbed into the boat themselves. “Everyone else went before you last time, and fair’s fair.”  
  
Grumbling, the blonde picked up the oars and slotted them into place before shooting the man a glare. “If I see the turtle I’m totally rowing us into her boobs now.”  
  
“Capsized by titties?” Rocket started cheekily. “Better call the coastguard!”  
  
“But Rocket,” Joe replied, “you’re the only serviceman on this world. You are the coastguard.”  
  
“OH FUUUCK!” The biker suddenly screamed melodramatically while the boat started into the lake waters again, as he was wont to do.


	11. Black and White

“See you back at the camp then, I guess,” Joe waved off the biker as he ambled down the beach and poofed out of existence, evidently not seeing the point in sticking around to acquire the Beautiful Sword- or Purity’s Light, he supposed.   
  
Either way, that left just Joe, Booker, and Nilas on the lakeshore together.  
  
“Alright, I remember where it was, so let’s get going then,” the happy medium height-wise between the three noted as he started marching off with a purpose.  
  
“Then lead the way.” Booker remarked as he trudged alongside his fellow Canadian and Aussielander friend. “I don’t think I remember the way.”  
  
“Yeah, I dunno either.” Nilas added, stretching out his arms and groaning. Trying to shake off the ache and tiredness of having rowed back. “Though would just thinking about it lead us to it? Seems sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t.”  
  
“Well, the Beautiful- the tree-pedestal of Purity’s Light is located in the ‘lake area,’ such as it is, and I remember the specific location, ‘bout fifteen minute’s walk this way past that rock formation that kinda looks like a donkey,” Joe noted with a point.  
  
“I should probably start paying more attention to where we go.” The blond mused idly as they moved off.  
  
“Well let’s hope you don’t end up making an  _ass_ of yourself then.” Booker sarcastically remarked with a smirk as he nudged Joe’s arm.   
  
“Go fuck yourself,” Joe declared as he looked over to the rock formation again- “Wait, is that… oh look, bottle of Equinium sitting atop the stone donkey. Not it!”  
  
“I’ll grab it.” Nilas rolled his eyes and picked up his pace a little to reach out and grab the dick-shaped vial. Tucking it into his pocket, he said, “I’ll sell it and get some money or something.”  
  
“Right, but if we wake up one morning and you’ve got a third leg I’m judging you.” Booker replied as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.   
  
“Whatever, let’s get going you two. That sword isn’t gonna draw itself,” the group’s swordsman declared as he started off down the beach again.  
  
The other two were quick to follow without complaint.  
  
\---  
  
Joe fell firmly on his ass when he took a hold of the hilt of the sword and gave it a tug with all of his might, eliciting a sharp yelp when it came out of the tree with absolutely no resistance.  
  
A moment passed, and the great, beautiful tree began to rapidly wilt, its verdant green leaves turning brown and falling from their branches faster than any of the three had ever seen, bark seeming to age hundreds of years in the span of seconds.  
  
In a scant few moments, the great, flawless tree was a dead, empty husk.  
  
The sight, oddly enough, left the three with a strange sense of loss and pangs of guilt.  
  
“...Well,” Joe started as he rose to his feet. “I forgot that happened when the sword was drawn. But, at any rate…”  
  
He rested the gleaming white blade of the sword across his hands, examining it with a critical gaze, searching the flawless steel for any signs of imperfections, and when he found nothing… “This is a fine blade.”  
  
It looked more like something out of the late Roman or Migration period than a standard Medieval blade. A short, though lavishly decorated golden guard with room for only a single hand accompanying a beautiful, squat pommel of brass and ebony with a wide, three foot-long blade with a spatulated tip.  
  
It was easy to identify it as a spatha-type sword. Surprising. He’d been expecting some basic fantasy shit that indicated the locals were stuck in Medieval stasis like a bunch of pathetic ass-backwards losers for the past couple thousand years.  
  
...Which made the thought of the demons having ruined Mareth and destroyed civilization all the more infuriating.  
  
At any rate, curiously enough...   
  
“I was expecting it to ‘feel’ a bit more magical,” Joe noted. “Honestly, there doesn’t seem to be much particularly special about this aside from it just being a really well-made sword.”  
  
Booker’s gaze lingered in the withered and dead tree, and then looked to the sword in his friend’s hands. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen. I guess we’ll see how well it does against demons soon enough.”  
  
Nilas scratched his neck idly as he stood to the side, watching. “It seemed pretty powerful in-game still, even though it didn’t do anything special. So maybe it is just a really well-made sword right now. At least until it gets those boosts Marae mentioned.”  
  
“Right…” Joe nodded as he gave it a few experimental swings. “Guess it’s kinda like the Goddess Sword from Skyward Sword right now. The Zelda game where the Master Sword is forged, to clarify. Not fully empowered yet… at any rate-”  
  
He brandished the sword outwards.  
  
“It’s gonna get annoying carrying this thing around without a sheath-” He cut himself off as he turned around, and saw resting against the trunk of the tree, a sheath which seemed to be made just to fit the sword in his hand. “...Was that always there?”  
  
“I… I don’t know.” Booker replied as he stared at the sheath in bemusement.   
  
“Yeah… it definitely wasn’t there. Maybe it fell out of the tree, I guess?” The Australian’s voice went up in pitch out of his own confusion and uncertainty.  
  
The shorter of the two Canucks shook his head, scooped up the sheath, and slid their new Goddess-blessed blade into it. Fit like a key. “Yup. Flawless fit. I’m just gonna accept this and move on if you both don’t mind…”  
  
With that, he shrugged his shoulders, rested the now sheathed sword on his shoulder, and started off again. “Well, let’s get back to the farm then. Don’t want Rocket and Trevor to start having conniptions worrying over us.”  
  
“I don’t think Rocket would even notice for at least a day or so.” Nilas quipped, “He’ll probably be too busy antagonizing the farm residents and then wondering why they’re reacting.”  
  
“We’d probably find him in the barn, in a pool of milk and insisting he never meant for anything to happen.” Booker remarked and chuckled to himself.   
  
“...He’s totally a secret masochist, isn’t he?” The shorter of the three chuckled.  
  
“That would certainly explain a lot,” Joe nodded as the three gradually ambled away from the now dead tree back towards the farm. “Especially with how-”  
  
“Oh, yoohoo!” Came a familiar voice from the treeline leading to the forest. “Boooooys, remember me~?”  
  
Joe spun on his heel, peered into the woods, and recognized the black-haired Kitsune sister, Opal, waving at them in the distance.  
  
“You-!” Joe started, dramatically jabbing his finger out towards her-  
  
“Kyaa~!” only to elicit a high-pitched squeal of pleasure when he instead grabbed a fistful of booby right in front of him. “So forward~!”  
  
“JESUS FUCK!” Joe shouted in a very masculine manner as he leapt back a good three feet in shock at the Kitsune’s sudden invasion of his personal space, releasing the mammary as he did so. “Must you fucking spook us with those damned illusions like that!” He demanded as she grinned a most satisfied ear-to-ear grin at him.  
  
Booker stared at the beautiful black haired kitsune and looked between her and Joe in mild amusement. “Hey,” he nodded towards her, “I’m Booker, nice to meet you. I’d offer a handshake but I’m a bit concerned about what I’d grab.” He deliberately kept his hands tucked into his pocket.   
  
“Boooo,” Opal pouted at him, ears flattening against her scalp. “Already, you’re the most boring one of the new arrivals,” she declared through eyes lidded in disappointment, her large, extraordinarily fluffy tails swaying about mesmerizingly, already brushing against Joe’s face as he tried to futility swat them away in annoyance.  
  
Nilas was quiet as his friends spoke, his eyes trained on the fox-girl as they drifted up and down her. Without even realizing it, a small smile had spread across his lips as he stared, and fought the urge he always got when he saw a cute pair of fluffy ears, or just fluffy fur in general. His hand still twitched despite that, wanting to reach and and stroke them pretty badly.  
  
Before he could react, a heavenly, fluffy sensation overwhelmed all his senses, a dozen human-sized fox tails pushed into his face before he could even blink. “You like what you see, handsome? You only gotta ask if you wanna touch, y’know~” Opal playfully told the Australian with the wandering eyes.  
  
The blond spluttered at the sudden fluff attack, fine hairs tickling his face and leaving it almost tingling. It would have been a very distracting sensation, or at least even more distracting, if it hadn’t been for the ones that had managed to slip up his nostril. Snorting, Nilas jerked his head back and almost flailed, trying to get his face some room and groping the tails pretty heavily in the process.  
  
“You’d better not sneeze on my beautiful tails!” Opal declared to the Aussie. “Do you know how much effort I put into making them as clean as soft and mesmerizingly enticing as possible? Why, you should feel honoured to get the opportunity to be ensnared by my wonderful fuzzy man-traps!” She shouted as her black tails worked to tangle themselves up in his arms and legs, preventing him from escaping.  
  
The surprise of the moment, and the cuteness of it, began to quickly fade as he felt himself grow more and more entangled with fuzzy appendages. Replaced by a rapid reminder of just what world he was in, and what that usually meant for situations like this. The only thing stopping him from going full panic was that Joe had seemed familiar with her, and had never previously mentioned a dangerous kitsune.  
  
It was still a touch worrying as he found himself able to move less and less. Craning his head back, Nilas said, “Hey, hey! That’s what I was trying not to do! Sure, thanks, they’re great, but I’d like to be un-ensnared now, please! Foxy no foxing!”  
  
“Mmmm…!” She cutely growled while puffing out her cheeks in an exaggerated pout. “Two ingrates that don’t appreciate the majesty of fluffy tails… Jooooooe, you wanna get ensnared in my tails again, riiiight?” She all but whined at the sword-bearing Canuck with big teary eyes which she definitely wasn’t making look about ready to start pouring using her illusionary magic.  
  
“Hey now, don’t put words in my mouth!” The Australian huffed as he tried to pull himself free. “I have plenty appreciation for fluffy tails. But how would you feel if someone randomly grabbed your tails when you weren’t expecting it?”  
  
Once Nilas belted out his protest, Joe replied to the dark-haired Kitsune. “Wait, ‘again?’” He declared with a confused look on his face. “Trevor was the one that was all wrapped up in tails the entire time! I was never off my feet!”  
  
“Hey! I didn’t say I didn’t appreciate fluffy tails, far from it.” Booker raised his hand to his chest in faux-offense, and eyed up the floofy appendages around his friend. He really wanted to reach out and pet them, and as his gaze wandered to the kitsune’s ears his thoughts turned lewder as he thought they’d be fun to grab. “If you’re offering, I wouldn’t be opposed to being ensnared.”  
  
“No,” she sharply declared, dramatically turning her nose up and away from Booker, tails still actively wrapping around Nilas without pause. “You’re boring and you suck. Joe, Rocket, and Trevor are much more fun!”  
  
Joe facepalmed at the sight. It seemed that she  _really_  didn’t like Booker’s more measured response to meeting her…  
  
Booker shot his fellow Canadian an amused look. “You two made fools of yourselves, didn’t you?” He knew how they acted when alone in voice chat and so far they’d held true to their tomfoolery in Mareth as well.   
  
“They’re fun is what they are!” Opal declared, nose still upturned. “It’s so nice to have a pair of amusing humans around to play with… or should I say a trio, hmm my pretty little boy~?” the dark-haired Kitsune asked with a very smug grin as she twisted around to face Nilas, still trapped amidst all her tails.  
  
Her short, tightly fitted kimono strained against her rather ample bosom as she pivoted around, giving everyone present quite a show as she stood there.  
  
Or, two-thirds of everyone present, at least. Nilas had a face-full of tails preventing him from seeing what was going on.  
  
Once Opal recognized that, she burst out laughing, doubling over for a moment before her tails dropped a bit, enough to give the Australian’s eyes back.  
  
Crinkling his nose, the Australian sniffed several times as he fought back the urge to sneeze now that his face was free of fluff. His head was swimming a little, having been buried in the frankly great-smelling tails and leaving him unable to do anything but breath in the kitsune’s scent. Shaking his head lightly, he couldn’t help but chuckle and unconsciously clutch the tails closer to himself. “Thanks.” Glancing between the group, he said, “So I’m guessing you’re not one of the less friendly people around then?” His eyes met Joe’s for a moment looking for confirmation.  
  
“Didn’t we mention that we spent a night at their mansion a few days ago?” Joe asked, looking rather surprised. “I could have sworn we did… anyways, just tell them what they aren’t allowed to do and they’re fine-”  
  
“NOOO! Don’t tell them that!” The fair-skinned girl very vehemently protested. “Why do you keep denying us so much fun after we let you put it in our butts and everything!”  
  
Joe groaned into his hand heavily. “Nilas, Booker, this is Opal. She and her sisters are perfectly fine to be around so long as you firmly tell them what they’re  _not_  allowed to do to you ahead of time, and furthermore,” he pointed at the fox girl dramatically. “You  _demanded_  butt stuff! Don’t act like we had to beg or anything!”  
  
The kitsune’s ears flattened against her head as she glowered at the shorter Canadian, eyes thinned into slits and cheeks puffed out a fair amount with a dissatisfied growl.  
  
Nilas stared wide-eyed at his friend, seeing him in a new light now that he hadn’t expected. Not really sure what else to say to that reveal, he said, “Well, uh, congrats I suppose man. Didn’t know you had it in you.” He jerked slightly and added in quickly, “And, uh, nice to meet you, Opal.”  
  
Booker let out a sharp bark of laughter and shook his head. “I’m surprised Joe! I’m surprised you haven’t married her already!”   
  
“Firstly,  _fuck you_ ,” Joe flipped his taller friend the bird. “Secondly, they  _all_  wanted anal, I’m-” he paused, then looked at Opal. “Did we even touch each other during all that, actually?”  
  
Opal’s expression switched to one of confusion, then surprise. “...Didn’t we? I think we did, I mean, everyone was swapping so often… oh! I know how to identify whether we fucked! What colour was the head of  _your_ dick-”  
  
“OKAY, MOVING ON,” Joe cut her off sharply. “What do you want?”  
  
She looked annoyed at having had been interrupted, but quickly recovered. “I was out looking for someone to have fun with, when I felt something super weird, a burst of incredible magic that faded as quickly as it appeared…” she looked in the direction of the tree Purity’s Light had been resting in, then over to the sword itself resting on Joe’s shoulder. “Looks like we managed to get in with the big ol’ champion before he got big, didn’t we~?” She asked teasingly.  
  
Joe was caught off-guard, glancing at the sword then back to her. Nobody ever reacted to the blade in the game proper…  
  
He shook his head before replying. “We’re  _all_  Champions, thank you very much. I’m just the one carrying the sword because they,” he gestured towards his companions, “don’t care about such things.”  
  
“Yeah.” Nilas piped up, hands starting to idly stroke the fluff he was still encased in. Enjoying the cool sensation and the soft tingling it left through his fingers. “Turns out I’m not the best at swinging a weapon around.”  
  
The kitsune glanced between the three, not paying Nilas’ comment much attention, then a wide smile appeared on her face. “Oh, if you’re  _all_  Champions… you know what that means…” She turned and started walking back towards the forest, dragging Nilas behind her as she went. Making the blond yelp in surprise and cling to her tails harder. “We have to celebrate! All night, with lots and  _lots_  of sake! It wouldn’t do to not send such great heroes off with no proper send off!”  
  
“Nilas, tell her they aren’t allowed to turn you into a tentacle monster!” Joe shouted as he started after the pair. “Seriously, do it!”  
  
“What?! What the fuck?!” Said guy whipped his head around as his feet dragged and staggered along the ground, very surprised by the girl’s strength. Weren’t kitsune weak tricksters and magic-users?! “Uh, you’re not allowed to turn me into a tentacle monster! I like being human, or humanoid at least!”  
  
The girl stopped in her tracks, turning around to face Nilas with a blank expression on her flawless countenance for a few moments before responding with a wide, almost predatory smile.  
  
“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I, and soon enough my sisters have a  _much_  better idea in mind for  _you_ ~” She finished with a slightly sinister giggle.  
  
“Uh…” Nilas wasn’t sure whether to be scared or turned on by that statement, and so went for a comfortable middle-ground between the two. His chuckle portraying that pretty clearly. “Alright?”  
  
“And you can’t keep him!” Joe added firmly. “Or Booker! And Ruby isn’t allowed to stick her-”  
  
He cut himself off, blinking as realization struck him.  
  
“Actually, no, I just remembered that you two are probably gonna be in hog heaven when Ruby whips out her massive futa donger.”  
  
“Wait, what? She’s got what?” The thoughts going through Nilas’ head were better left unsaid to his friends, but surprise was definitely a key part of them.   
  
“As long as it’s not a giant horse cock, I think I’d be fine with it.” Booker replied with a shrug as he started after his entangled friend. “Hopefully I make a better impression on the other sisters than I did with Opal.”  
  
Opal turned around, giving Booker a surprised look which quickly turned into one of grudging respect. “Hm… maybe there’s hope for you after all mister scholar,” she stated appraisingly. “Ruby at least will be able to have fun with you.”  
  
“Degenerates like you belong on a cross,” Joe grumbled to Booker in disgust. “But hey, at least I’m not gonna have to keep swatting her away when she tries to sneak up on  _me_  this time. Why does  _she_  not take no for an answer?”  
  
“Jealousy?” Opal suggested, leading the three past the treeline. “Amber and I were being completely satisfied, so I imagine she was feeling left out being the only one not allowed to stick it up anyone’s butt…”  
  
Nilas, who had fallen silent in thought and fantasizing, was suddenly struck by a thought. “Soooooo… when you say sisters… is that like just a friendly name you use for each other, or?”  
  
“No incest!” She immediately cut him off sharply and with an annoyed tone. “We aren’t  _animals_  like those filthy little goblins!”  
  
“Whoa whoa! I just was curious if you were actual sisters or was it just a cutesy name that girls sometimes use!” The blond flung his hands up in surrender, surprised by the sudden reaction. “No offense meant. Oof.”  
  
Opal ‘huffed’ before turning forward and continuing to walk on. “Why the hell do people always ask about that and expect one of us to go down on Ruby in the middle of everything…  _ugh_ ,” she openly shuddered.   
  
Booker hid his disappointment that he couldn’t share one of the sisters with Ruby.   
  
Joe, however, caught the ever-so-slight look on Booker’s face, and made no attempt to hide his, for the first time,  _genuine_ disgust. What the  _fuck_.  
  
Nilas shot the other guys an almost pleading look, lost on what to say next.  
  
Opal’s ears twitched, and she glanced back at Booker and Joe with a suspicious look on her face, noticing Joe’s horrified grimace, she glared at Booker for a moment.  
  
“...I really don’t much care for  _you_ ,” the raven-haired fox girl declared to the tall man with the futa incest orgie fantasies.  
  
“Sooooooooo….” Feeling the situation slipping away down an awkward path, Nilas tried to take the reigns and steer it away from the minefield. “How many tails have you got? They’re, uh, very nice.”  
  
“Six gorgeous, magnificent,  _luxurious_  tails which you’re going to get  _very well_  acquainted with tonight,” she chuckled melodically, the appeal to her vanity clearly working very well. “You know what that means, right? A kitsune is more powerful the more tails she has… I’m probably one of the most powerful beings you’ve encountered yet,” she declared, looking back at the Aussie with a predatory grin.  
  
“You’re probably not wrong.” The blond nodded, thinking back on what he had actually met so far. It really wasn’t that much, which he was thankful for. He smiled at the dark-haired woman, and said, “I’m glad you’re as nice as you are, that’s for sure. This is pretty comfortable. You take good care of your tails for sure. Wish my hair could be this good.” He chuckled lightly.  
  
“Oh, you never know, we may be able to show you a few of our tricks in the coming days,” Opal chuckled melodically, giving Nilas a long appraising look as she did so. “I  _really_  like you, at least,” she declared. “Two out of three isn’t so bad… now, you must tell me, what’s your favourite liquor to partake in…?”


	12. Wham, Bam, Thank you Ma’am

****Eventually, the trio led by the dark-haired fox girl, stepped into the Deep Woods clearing that the kitsune mansion rested in the centre of. Walled, massive, and oh so Japanese, it stood in stark contrast to everything else they’d encountered in Mareth thus far.  
  
And from what Joe remembered, the inside was luxurious as  _fuck_.  
  
“You guys are gonna fuckin’ love the cushions they got here,” the swordsman declared to his companions. “Them’s some hella nice cushions.”  
  
“ _That's_  what you say here?” Opal declared, pouting at Joe. “What about  _my_  cushions?”  
  
“Again, I’m not even sure that we did anything last time, that orgy was the fucking nuts girl,” Joe noted.  
  
Opal huffed in annoyance. “And  _again_ , I remember what the dicks I sucked look like, so if you’d just tell me the colour of  _your_ dick-”  
  
“SO, ABOUT THEM CUSHIONS,” Joe loudly interjected. “They’re super nice and comfy to sit on, you guys are gonna love them!”  
  
Opal’s pout intensified.  
  
Nilas was suitably impressed by the building’s exterior, looking it over from his position still trapped within the tails. At this point, he wasn’t sure if Opal had just forgotten that she was doing it or not, but he didn’t feel the need to complain. He did have one question though. “So did you and your sisters build this? If so, that’s pretty crazy.”  
  
“This question bores me,” Opal declared as she started dragging Nilas, prompting an affronted cry from the man, towards the main building. “Let’s head inside already-”  
  
“Oh, what’s this, new guests- oh, hello Joe!” Amber cheerfully chirped from the second story balcony, waving down at the shorter of the two Canucks as she did so. “Who are your new friends?”  
  
Joe nodded up at the blonde before replying. “The pretty boy is Nilas, the big fucker is Booker-”  
  
“Oh, two new probably also  _boring_  guests? How  _thrilling_ ,” Ruby interjected, stepping out into the balcony herself, bearing a rather dour look which elicited an elbow in her side from Amber.  
  
“Actually, Rubes,” Joe started, a bit of a smile forming on his lips as recalled how disappointed Ruby had been in his, Trevor, and Rocket’s straightness. “I bring you gifts!”  
  
Her expression softened into one of tempered anticipation. “...Oh?” She said, leaning over the railing a tad.  
  
“Booker fucking  _LOVES_  big throbbing femcock!” Joe declared for all the world to hear, projecting his voice as he bellowed the words out like a human loudspeaker.  
  
 _“REALLY!?”_  Ruby  _joyously_  leaned forth, almost throwing herself clean over the railing and giving a godlike view down the cleavage of her massive boobers, her smile stretching from ear-to-ear.  
  
Joe wound up and slapped Booker firmly on the ass. “Go get ‘er, boy!” He shouted while giving Booker a firm thumbs-up.  
  
“You find this more amusing than you have any right to,” Booker muttered to his friend before turning his attention to the redheaded kitsune. He smiled and waved up at her. “Yes, and hey as he said I’m Booker! Nice to meet you!”  
  
Joe, once again, gave his dyslexic friend an encouraging thumbs-up. At the same time, Nilas leaned over in the taller man’s direction as far as he could with a smarmy look. “So… I’m never going to let you forget that you slapped Booker on the ass, just so you know.”  
  
“Nilas is pretty cool with dicks too, just so you know!” Joe continued to sell both of his comrades out with nary a hint of shame.  
  
“...Touche.” The blond said after a moment before his eyes narrowed. “But you’ll get yours eventually. Just you wait.”  
  
Ruby looked over the fucking moon, her many tails wagging damn near hard enough to generate lift-off as she beamed down at the pair, damn near looking ready to cry from happiness.  
  
She was gonna plunder them booties so hard tonight.  
  
Nilas lifted a hand out of the mass of tails still holding him largely in place to wave at the kitsune, intimidated by the sheer excitement radiating off of her. Even so, his eyes worked their way up and down the woman’s figure as he imagined what she looked like under the kimono. And what kind of dick she might have.  
  
Amber and Opal were staring Joe’s way, evidently finding his recent actions  _very_  amusing, giving him full-on faggot cat smiles.  
  
At once, Joe felt like he’d just probably made a mistake.  
  
“Well, come on, get our guests inside and get some liquor in them already! It’s gonna be a long night, girls!” Amber happily declared as she bounded back into the mansion.  
  
“Woo!” Booker cheered in excitement. “Also, no transformatives or turning me into a tentacle monster!” He added after the fact, realizing he specifically hadn’t laid down ground rules as Joe or Nilas did before.   
  
“Awwww, but tentacles mean that you can fill every hole at once!” Ruby protested with a pout, jiggling ever so enticingly as she did so. “Three times the penetration, three times the pleasure!”  
  
“...I’ll think on it and get back to you.” The blond said after a moment of deep thought, brow furrowed slightly.   
  
Ruby’s smile returned full force as she turned to address the long-haired brunet swordsman of the group. “This is the best gift ever, Joe! Best wingman ever!” She happily announced.  
  
Joe just shrugged.  
  
“I’d be willing to consider them if you make a convincing enough of a case for them,” Booker added in a jovial tone as he smiled up at the redhead.   
  
With a devious smirk, Ruby began planning for operation ‘get the two fun ones so drunk that they’ll agree to anything,’ steepling her fingers before her flawless face as she gave the pair a measured stare.  
  
“You know what is really good for stuff like this?” Nilas started hesitantly, being careful not to possibly insult the sisters. They might seem friendly but kitsune could be unpredictable from what he remembered. “Communication. Talking is really useful for finding what people do and don’t want.”  
  
“Yeah, are we talking tentacle dicks or regular tentacles? Cause there’s a world of difference between them.” Booker added. “Like extra grasping appendages could be useful, outside of sex.”  
  
“Dicks! Of course! You can’t bukkake a girl with regular tentacles!” Ruby shouted by way of explanation.  
  
“Some doujin I’ve seen say otherwise…” Nilas quipped quietly, snickering to himself. “Also, could I have my bodily autonomy back, please? This is nice and all, but this much floof is making me sweat like a motherfucker.”  
  
“No,” Opal declared as she continued to drag Nilas along. “You’re gonna be tied down and dominated with floof and femcock and you’re gonna  _love_  it.”  
  
“Geez Nilas, why do you get two kitsune sisters?” Booker remarked as he looked over his Aussie friend wrapped up in fluffy tails.   
  
“Shit, wait, already?” The blonde’s tone shifted upwards in a hint of panic, glancing about. He hadn’t been expecting to go right for it. “This is the exact opposite of communicating!” He fumbled for an idea to slow things down, possibilities running through his head. “Wouldn’t you want us to clean up first? We’ve been sweating and shit already. Probably got some mad stank ass!”  
  
“Oh, you hear that Ruby? Good news, now you can indulge in your weird sweat-licking fetish too!” Opal shouted out.  
  
“Yaaaay!” Ruby cheered with genuine joy and a hop that caused her massive mammaries to tumble free from her kimono from high atop the balcony as Nilas was dragged ever closer to the mansion. “Best boys ever! Can we keep them? Please, please!?”  
  
Nilas groaned and flopped back limply in the grip of the kitsune’s tails, his hands popping up into view as he lifted them up in exasperation. “Oh come on. That’s not even the sexy part of sweat.” Feeling petulant, the Australian corpsed completely among the fluff, nothing but limp dead weight now.  
  
“Oh, what, now that it’s not  _your_  fetish it’s suddenly weird and gross?” Joe interjected as he walked alongside his bigger Canadian pal into the massive double doors of the mansion. “Fucking hypocrite.”  
  
“Yeah, fucking-” Opal started. “Hey, wait, you’ve been giving everyone shit for their fetishes from the start! Where do you get off acting all high-and-mighty!?” She demanded of Joe while not seeming in the least inconvenienced by Nilas’ attempts to make himself harder to carry.  
  
“You tell him, sister!” Nilas crowed from behind her.  
  
“What if that is his fetish?” Booker interjected.   
  
“Because  _I’ve_  been consistent about my distaste is why!” Joe asserted with his chest puffed out proudly, just ignoring Booker’s comment entirely. “I’m not suddenly acting like some weird fetishes are better than others like this fuckboi is!” He finished with a dramatic finger pointed at Nilas.  
  
“Oh?” The blonde smirked, looking stupidly smug. “Whenever did I do such a thing, Joe? I was simply putting forth my own thoughts on the particular draw of sweat as a kink. Never once did I belittle her thoughts.” He spun around in the tails, hands resting on his chin. Looking like a Cheshire cat protruding from a fluffy bush. “Methinks he doth protest too much.”  
  
Opal gave Nilas an approving sidelong grin at that.  
  
Ruby, meanwhile, was now looking dejected from the interior balcony of the opulent Japanese-style mansion. “Why does everyone have to make the things  _I_  like seem so gross, I just wanna have fun too…” She pitifully whined while looking Nilas’ way.  
  
Amber, meanwhile, was just quietly rolling her eyes in the background as she drew a big ‘ol bottle of sake from a wet bar along with a number of glasses, clearly rather used to all of this by now.  
  
“I was agreeing with you, you dopey floof!” Nilas shouted from down below. “I’d lick the sweat from your body, so don’t go sending those puppy dog eyes at me!”  
  
“No, you weren’t! You said that the thing I like isn’t supposed to be the  _good_  kind of sweat-licking!” She retorted, looking quite hurt with her cheeks puffed out in a sad pout.  
  
The Australian gasped dramatically, hand to his mouth. “ _I never._  I said that wasn’t even the sexy part, for me. Besides, isn’t it hot when you can see the skin glistening? Droplets running over muscle and definition? Hmm? Hmm?” He coaxed the kitsune verbally, waggling his eyebrows.  
  
“No, you suck!” Ruby asserted. “The big one is the only one I’m letting suck my cock tonight, you can go and have boring normie sex with my boring normie sisters you boring normie!” the redhead declared as she grabbed Booker by the arm and already started dragging him off someplace.  
  
Booker rapidly looking between the red-haired kitsune and the empty balcony. “Wait, what? Weren’t you just up there?” He asked in confusion as he gestured wildly. “Not that I’m complaining but how’d you pull that off?”  
  
“Illusionists,” Joe reminded the pair with a waggle of his actual normie vanilla finger. “Don’t think about it, it’ll save you a headache.”  
  
“Well, in that case, Ruby, it better be real femcock and fluffy tails I’m touching!” The taller Canadian loudly declared to the kitsune as he was dragged out of the room. A few moments later after the pair left, an excited cry echoed from down the hall. “God damn you’re hung like a moose!”  
  
Nilas slumped back in kitsune sister’s tails, going silent as a bitter feeling twisted his stomach. There’d been some misunderstanding, which was exactly why he’d suggested communication, and he’d hurt the redhead’s feelings. He wondered just how often she had issues, to be that sensitive about the topic. Even when he was mostly just playing around. “Damn it…”  
  
“CHOKE ON IT BITCH!” Ruby’s voice abruptly came  _HOWLING_  from down the hall, along with a loud, retching gasp of  **P L E A S U R E D agony** , wet  _sloshing_ , and boyish whimpering. “STOP TRYING TO CLOSE THE DOOR,  **I WANT THEM TO HEAR!** ”  
  
Nilas stared in the direction with his eyebrows shot right up into his hairline. He had no words. Just sympathy for his friend’s throat. That was not something you wanted to do hard or fast with no prior experience. May God save his soul.  
  
“...Remember, Mareth,” Joe noted to Nilas, naked disgust barely hidden on his face as Amber sidled up next to him, already starting to play with his long brunet locks. “His throat is basically like elastic at this point. He’ll be fine as long as she lets him breathe.”  
  
The vicious, throaty howling only intensified, echoing off the mansion’s walls as Ruby bellowed like a wildebeest.  
  
“Oh, I know. But it’s still got to hurt.” Nilas replied, before glancing between the other sisters. “Also, why would you make the walls out of paper? We’re going to be able to hear that clear across the house I bet.”  
  
“We will,” Amber bemusedly replied tonelessly, her eyes going mildly dull. “You get used to it.”  
  
“But  _why_?” The Australian whispered back, sounding confused and a touch awed. “Why not just fix it?”  
  
“Because she won’t  _let_  us,” Opal whined. “She  _wants_  us to hear.”  
  
“That kinky, huh.” He replied simply.  
  
“...That’s actually the same noise she makes when she’s getting it up the pooper, thinking about it,” Joe observed, scratching his fuzzy cheek. “How does she not blow her vocal cords out all the time?”  
  
“Who says she doesn’t?” Amber asked rhetorically as she took a  _big_  swing from the bottle in her hand. “Only time we actually get some peace and quiet around here, honestly.”  
  
“Gotta love a screamer.” Nilas crossed his arms and nodded once.  
  
There was a moment of silence, and eventually, as Ruby outright  _screamed bloody murder_ , the black-haired kitsune nodded while looking between Joe and Nilas.  
  
“Stop-n-Swap night?” She asked Amber.  
  
“Hell yes,” Amber replied with a lecherous grin as she downed the glass of sake she’d poured for herself.  
  
“No crossing swords!” Joe shouted out to  _everyone_  in the building.  
  
 _“COWARD!”_  Ruby bellowed back at him as Booker could be heard choking on something rather audibly.  
  
\---  
  
“Alright, I want to say,” Booker began red-faced as he sat on a cushion around a low table, nursing a cup of tea, “that I said some things last night in the heat of the moment, but I don’t want that to reflect on how I want to be treated  _as a person_  and as a human being.”  
  
Meanwhile, Ruby was gently rubbing Booker’s shoulders, fetching him every little thing his heart desired and just being an absolute chill sweetheart in general as she sweetly caressed his jawline and kissed his cheek every so often.  
  
Notably, she was actually being quiet and calm. Evidently, someone just needed to get it out of their system and they were normal afterwards.  
  
“And the dick-tail self-bukkake was hot though…” He added as he took a sip of his drink.   
  
On the opposite side of the table, Nilas shook his head slightly with a smirk. His attention focused on the mass of silken fur spread across his lap, softly combing his fingers through it at the same time he ran a brush through it.  
  
“Well, I suppose it’s time to give y’all your gifts and kick you out on your asses!” Opal cheerfully declared as she sisters all nodded in agreement.  
  
“You knew what you were getting into at the start of this, buddy,” Joe dryly noted to Booker as he ate his rice upon noticing the biggest guy’s annoyance at the sisters’ blase attitude towards tossing them out once they were done with them.  
  
“Wait, we get more things on top of an amazing night?” Nilas asked, unable to help but stroke the girl’s egos a bit. Not that he was lying since it had been a crazy time. And yet somehow refreshing. Probably Mareth magic.  
  
The girls all shared a look… a rather  _conspiratorial_ look. Total faggot cat expressions as they momentarily glanced Nilas’ way. “We  _always_  shower our esteemed guests with gifts for letting us have a little fun…” All three said in perfect unison.  
  
Suddenly, there were little wrapped Japanese-style boxes sitting in front of all the dudes on the table, looking all finely made and shit.  
  
“No opening them until you leave though!” Opal declared.  
  
“That’s the rule,” Ruby nodded along.  
  
“Break it, and you aren’t allowed back here anymore,” Amber noted from her spot on the table where she was just flopped out on it, allowing Nilas to shower her tails with pets and brushing.  
  
“Yeah yeah, I know the drill,” Joe replied as he finished wolfing down his bowl of rice and took his ‘present.’ “Thanks for the good time girls, now we’ll be on our way. It wouldn’t be proper for us to overstay our welcome, right, gentlemen?”  
  
Nilas pouted slightly, and put down the brush on the table before suddenly shoving his face into the tail in his lap. He held it there for a moment, nuzzling the fluff, before coming back up for air. “Yeah, alright. We’ve got other stuff we should probably do as well.” Picking up the small box, he smiled warmly at the three girls. “Thanks for the fun time. And uh, sorry again.” He directed the last part at Ruby directly.  
  
She seemed too preoccupied with nuzzling Booker’s jawline to notice the apology if she even remembered Nilas making her mad the previous night in the first place.   
  
“Well, we don’t want to overstay our welcome,” Booker said as he slowly stood up with the kitsune’s help, wincing somewhat and standing awkwardly. “It was a fun night, Ruby, we should do it again sometime.” He gave her a kiss while copping a quick feel of her ass.   
  
 _“Anytime,”_  she lovingly cooed back in response, responding in turn by running her hand down the length of his R A G I N G L O V E S T I C K.  
  
“Uh, if you’re up for round…” Booker’s face screwed up as he did some quick math. “Five I think, I’d be willing to stay behind a bit.”  
  
“You’re already bow-legged dude,” Joe observed as he crammed his box in his satchel. “I don’t think you could actually handle another round.”  
  
“Yeah!” Opal declared from his side. “Also, still, get the fuck out, we’ve got stuff to do!” She ordered.  
  
“Well apparently Ruby wants to do me-” Booker defensively began.   
  
“Bye-bye~!” Ruby sweetly declared as she gently pushed Booker towards the door, clearly having no actual intention of following up on revving his engine.  
  
The Canadian loudly groaned in protest and outrage.   
  
Clearly, he’d forgotten that they were dealing with an impish trio of  _kitsune_.  
  
“Thanks for the good time,” Joe reiterated, reaching over to give Opal a one-armed friendly hug. “‘Twas great.”  
  
“I know,” Opal pridefully declared, puffing her ample chest out as she did so. “Now get!” she started shooing while pushing Joe off of her.  
  
“Yeah yeah, we’re going, we’re going!” The shorter Canadian replied with a shake of his head as he rested his wrist on the magical sword of legend sitting on his hip. “C’mon fuckbois, we’ve got a world to save!”  
  
Nilas, having already stood and moved towards the exit of the room, smiled and waved at the girls with his free hand. “I’m guessing this is a ‘you’ll find us whenever next thing?’”  
  
“Joe and the other two have maps!” Amber called back as she waved, a wine glass already filled to the brim sitting in front of her. “Any time you boys want, just come a knocking!”  
  
“Huh.” He replied, mildly surprised. “Cool, alright then. Cya.” And then he turned and walked out the door, following Joe and the taller, waddling Booker as he did so.  
  
“Heh. Should probably hold off slapping Booker’s ass again for a bit Joe, by the looks of it.” Nilas joked as he disappeared out of sight.  
  
From the distance, following this declaration that was the sound of a loud slap, a boyish yelp, and Joe shouting “GIDDY UP LIL’ DOGGY, LONG ROAD AHEAD FOR OUR BRAVE LIL’ WORKHORSE YA HEAR?”  
  
\---  
  
“...Huh. Looks like they gave me an actual honest-to-god jewel this time,” Joe observed as he lifted the teardrop-shaped rock into the sun-  
  
Then his eyes widened.  
  
“Wait a- oh shit, there’s a blue flame in this thing. They gave me a fucking Fox Jewel!”  
  
Booker opened up the box in his hands and stared down the Fox Jewel. “Huh, they gave me one too. I think it was worth a lot at the pawn shop too, might be worth hanging onto.”  
  
Nilas stared at the near-identical jewel cupped in his, holding it almost reverently. He couldn’t remember what a Fox Jewel was exactly from the game, but it wasn’t a hard guess to figure out the general idea. This thing was like the whisker fruit, but better. “So… you guys going to use it?”  
  
“Nah, never been one for magic stuff. I prefer to go all brawn and dexterity myself,” Joe replied as he flicked his jewel into the air and caught it again. “Why? You want mine too?  
  
His mind drifted back to the whole imp den debacle, and his conversation with Booker afterwards. Of having nothing to contribute to the fight. And his awful attempt at fighting the slime as well. He glanced at his large friend for a moment, brows creased, and then towards Joe. “They turn you into a kitsune, right?”  
  
“If you have enough of them, yeah,” Booker answered as he looked between the jewels in their possession. “I’d be tempted to use mine, but if I recall correctly the first couple changes just make you look feminine and I’m not willing to trade my looks for illusion magic.”  
  
“Magic  _period_ ,” Joe corrected his anally compromised companion, still tossing and catching his own jewel in his off-hand. “And also sharply increased intelligence. The girls may act the part of goons, but rest assured, any one of them is probably smarter than all three of us combined.”  
  
“True, but I stand by my position. I don’t want to look like a feminine waif, so for that reason alone I’m not using mine.” Booker asserted as he held out his box towards Nilas. “You want it? If not, then I’m gonna pawn it when I get the chance.”  
  
“Lumi’s supposed to be able to buff them as well if I’m remembering correctly, but we don’t know where in the hell the little goblin alchemist is in the first place, and any one of us need the buffs  _now_  I’d argue… and also Lumi’s buffs sharply increase the corruptive properties of transformatives, so we probably shouldn’t deal with her if we can help it in the first place.”  
  
He caught the jewel between two fingers and held it up in a V-sign where Nilas could see it.  
  
“So, want it?”  
  
As Joe held up the jewel, he focused on Nilas just in time to watch the jewel in his hand crumble. Releasing the azure flames within. They grew rapidly, swirling around the surprised blonde’s body and casting eerie shadows across his form. The air filled with a sweet scent, filling the Australian’s nose with the crisp scent of nature, chills running down his spine. His eyes followed the flames, enraptured by the sight. His skin started to tingle, starting at his extremities and working inwards rapidly. For a moment he was worried he was burning, but looking down showed nothing. Instead, it felt as if his skin was growing softer, the air on it sharper than it had been a moment before.   
  
The same tingling on his face intensified greatly, like the feeling you got when you sat on a limb for too long. Reaching up, he touched his fingers to it, feeling around. As they brushed against his goatee, he jumped as a clump of it fell away from the light touch; Quickly followed by the rest of his facial hair.   
  
He looked up at the others. “Did… did my beard just fall out?!”  
  
What Nilas couldn’t see, was the way his features had shifted, turning more feminine. Largely focused around the already feminine male’s nose and chin, tipping him dangerously into trap territory.  
  
Joe blinked. Then he leaned in to get a closer look on his Australian companion. “...Your nose also shrunk and turned a lot more feminine as well…”  
  
“...Huh.” The blonde didn’t seem perturbed by the change, as a few flames still lingered around him. He suddenly stumbled, his eyes clenching shut, as his mind reeled for a moment. A sly, mischievous smirk spread across his lips as clarity returned, everything feeling a little sharper and quicker than before. And a good deal more cunning. Already ideas for tricks came to mind, and he shuddered and licked his lips as his skin tingled at the thought. The moment ended as he realized that, and his eyes shot open. The man young looking a bit thrown off. “Whoa. Alright. I… think it’s over. That felt… weird. And awesome.”  
  
“...That didn’t look unpleasant at all,” Joe observed. “So, want mine too?” He repeated his earlier question.  
  
“Hell yeah, I do!” Nilas stuck his hand out, gesturing with his fingers. “Gimme dat shit, boi.”  
  
Joe shrugged and promptly flicked the jewel at the eager Aussie.  
  
He stuck his hand out to ready to catch it, but never got the chance. As if reading his intent, the Fox Jewel shattered before it even reached his palm, the eerie, supernatural flames lashing out in swirling spirals as they reached his extended arm and twisted around it, quickly travelling along it and engulfing his body once again. He laughed giddily as the same moment of disorientation struck his mind, and then disappeared to leave him with a sharp, sleek brain. He was likely already a decent bit smarter than his friends now, a thought that brought a smug smile to his lips. Lips that were tingling once again.  
  
This time the sensation seemed to be focused on his face again, and his scalp. Tingling and buzzing like it was painted in static if it was a physical thing. His shoulder-length hair flowed downwards suddenly, growing longer and shinier before settling at the middle of his back. His face shifted once again, now no longer caught even in androgyny, and tipping right over into female. A giddy grin on his face, Nilas ran his fingers through his new hair. “Aw yeeeeeeah. I’m liking these jewels. Hey Booker, hit me.”  
  
He lifted his hand up, making it clear he wanted the taller Canadian’s jewel as well.  
  
“Alright, if you’re sure.” Booker passed the jewel over to his shorter Aussie friend. “Braver man than I, that’s for sure.”  
  
“You’re just scared of being pretty.” Nilas snickered, a hand covering his mouth as he did so. “Little bitch. I’m going to have  _all_  the magic.”   
  
Joe was staring at the Australian with wide, stupified eyes. “You might be a bit more hesitant if you actually saw how dramatic the changes have already been… you’d actually be a  _really_  cute girl if not for the dick and balls as it is, dude. This is  _really_  fucking surreal to see happening in real time for that matter as well...”  
  
Riding high on the giddiness and magic, the Australian snorted and lifted his chin as the flames of the last jewel started to swirl around him. “Bitch, I’m always cute-”  
  
His words cut off into a strangled gasp suddenly, and then Nilas started  _screaming_.   
  
He dropped to the ground, hands clawing at his hips and crotch as blinding agony shot through his nerves; Wracking his body with shudders and spasms as his animal brain went into overdrive. Trying to escape whatever was causing the pain. He could  _feel_  his bones shifting under the skin, every grind and snap as they rearranged themselves and widened. His legs drummed against the grass, back arched as his wide eyes saw nothing. Blinded by the sheer pain. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and then even that was gone. And there was suddenly nothing. He could feel it, but the entire world had gone silent. He was dying, that had to be it.  
  
So lost in his own pain and fear, Nilas didn’t even notice when a new sensation suddenly appeared. New nerves, muscles and bones he’d never had syncing seamlessly with his body. The pain faded, almost gone as quickly as it had arrived, and sound returned. Sharp, and loud. His own gasping breaths loud to his ears, making them twitch.  
  
“HOLY FUCKING SHIT WHAT THE FUCK!?” Joe cried out in horror as he dropped to Nilas’ side, placing his hands on his companion’s shoulders in naked concern. “What in the actual fuck, that looked like pure fucking  _agony_ , where the fuck did that come from!?” He demanded as Booker dropped to Nilas’ side as well.  
  
Nilas groaned weakly, rolling himself over onto his back, or as far as he could manage with his new tail, as he stared up blankly at the sky; Face tracked with tears. “It…  _was_  pure agony…” He rasped.  
  
“Yeah, that happens when the actual transformations kick in,” Booker replied as he gave Nilas a pat on the shoulder, noting that the Aussie looked just like a cute fox girl.   
  
Joe blinked over at Booker, blanching openly. “Wait a minute,  _you fucking knew this would happen!?_ ”  
  
Booker stared back at Joe in surprise. “Yes! I thought you knew!”  
  
Nilas’ eyes slowly slid sideways to focus on the Canadian’s face, the blue orbs devoid of any emotion. And then his arm shot up and slugged him in the face. Which hurt. Nilas, specifically. “Ah fuck!”  
  
Booker reflexively flinched from the blow but then realized it didn’t hurt him at all. “Wow, you lost a lot of upper body strength… What little you had before anyway.” He reached up to pet Nilas’ ears to console his friend, and because he looked super fucking cute.   
  
Said ears jerked back flat against his head, and the newly-changed kitsune slapped it away. “Whadda think you’re doin! And I can’t believe you didn’t warn me!” Then his scowled deepened. “And how about I find out how much upper body strength matters when applied swiftly to your balls, boyo.”  
  
Booker retracted his hand and took a step back. “Alright, message received. As I said, I thought you knew.” He sheepishly grumbled. “That happens literally every time you transform in the game. I don’t know how you could forget that.”  
  
“It’s been years since I played, ok?!” Nilas put his hands up in the air, before letting them drop back down. His ears stayed flat, as the pain and anger faded and was replaced by embarrassment. “Soooo… I’m actually a kitsune now… huh?”  
  
“I guess…” Booker looked his friend over. “You look like a chick.”   
  
“...Your pants look really uncomfortably tight now, dude,” Joe observed as he noticed how very  _wide_  Nilas’ hips had grown.  
  
“That’s what she said! Boom!” Nilas pumped his fist. “Gotteem!”


End file.
